The Amazing Race- Hetalia Style
by EpicJellyfish7
Summary: "So my boss had this idea and wouldn't let me go home without pitching it…" He honestly didn't know how the man thought that a "vacation" with "extended family" could solve the world's problems. It wasn't like they were actually going to agree to it… right? No intended pairings, G-12 cast, T for language. Slight USUK, Spamano, GerIta, and PruCan.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Proposal**

 **A/N: I was bored. This was the result. Disclaimer- I don't own Hetalia and if a story like this exists already, I haven't seen it so any similarities are pure coincidence. Also I don't write accents- they're difficult to write and annoying to read when people get them wrong.**

 **Warnings:** Language, BTT, and Romano.

* * *

The bosses of Nations, over the years, have generally come to terms with the fact that they will always argue with each other for arguing's sake. But that didn't mean they couldn't try, try again right? So, after _observing_ one of the "Nation-only" meetings one day, the First Lady had the brilliant idea to send all the Nations on a "company retreat" of sorts out in BFE, to better international relationships.

That wasn't the bad part. America had also been _observing_ a "humans-only" meeting from the hallway with one of England's spy cameras and overheard the boss-man actually considering it. _That_ was the bad part. Because if his boss had a way with words, which he did, he could very easily convince the other bosses of the swell idea and the Nations would be powerless against it.

America could hear it now, not only would he be forced to spend God-knows-how-long with the most volatile group of beings on the planet, but it would be his fault. _Maybe if I just leave early today and don't come back until the meeting, I won't have to say anything to them._ He'd suspected the previous presidents must have communicated with each other at the end of each term, mercilessly spilling everything they knew about him. And that meant _everything_ , including the incredibly inconvenient lack of willpower America had against them.

None of the Nations knew why or how, but a boss just had a certain power above them that none of them liked and vowed never to share voluntarily.

But America was America. So naturally he failed epically at hiding that from nearly each and every boss he had because he trusted too easily. Which inevitably meant either he would tell them or they would figure it out.

Which was why he was planning escape from the White House when the "America, would you please come in here for a second?" echoed ominously down the hallway.

 _Fuuuuuuck_. He put on that Hollywood smile anyway and walked confidently into his boss' office, apologizing to his fellow Nations silently in his head as he went.

"Sup, boss?" He dropped lazily onto one of the couches and draped an arm over the back, staring at the man expectantly, who motioned to his wife. The First Lady sat on the couch across from him, an "I just had the best idea ever" smile on her face.

"So, Alfred, there's something I want to suggest to you, and you in turn to the other Nations at the upcoming meeting…"

* * *

"Everybody shut up!" There was just twenty minutes left and everyone was either arguing with each other or watching the clock countdown to zero. That was still twenty minutes and Germany wasn't going to waste it. Everyone immediately returned to their seats and pretended they were the mature adults they were supposed to be. "Now, America you said you had an announcement to make?"

"He already had his turn, Potato Bastard! Everyone else has to, I want to go home." Romano shouted, earning a few grumbles of agreement in response.

America loved being the center of attention, just not when it was for something he did. Or in this case was about to do, and England noticed. "Well go on then, what is it this time? A new robot idea to save the planet from global warming?"

"Eh, heh. Ah… no." Now everyone was curious. "So my boss had this idea and wouldn't let me go home without pitching it…" Code for: _I had no choice so please just bear with me._ Most could sympathize with that, having been in the same boat several times before, but it hardly changed the fact that whatever it was wasn't going to be good for any of them.

"Well, spit it out, git."

"He suggested that the twelve of us should have a break from world affairs for a while." Well technically yes, he did say that.

"That is good, _non_? Why do you look like you just ate one of _Angleterre's_ charcoal scones?" France smirked at the Brit's now tomato-red face but didn't say anything else.

"He said it would be with all of us, together, 'building positive international relations' by being stuck in the middle of nowhere for a week, not up for discussion."

And then the meeting room exploded in a cacophony of shouts and yells either about or directed at America who was only thinking one thing, _What did I do to deserve this?_

* * *

They stared up at the gigantic metal contraption parked in front of JFK airport. The gigantic metal contraption that would be housing twelve Nations for eleven days while they _drove_ from NYC to LA.

"Why did it have to be _your_ country that we drove across?" England complained, dropping his duffle bag on the concrete beside the rest of the luggage.

"You think I wanted it to be here? I'd much rather wreak havoc across Europe in this thing but they voted on it. Something about 'not wanting to divide the poor continent again'."

"Huh… you know what? Now that I think about it, Alfred, I'm absolutely ecstatic we get to see three days of corn fields. Good on them for making such a good decision."

Gleaming proudly in the hot sun, a massive class-A RV that sat fifteen at max capacity on the road with a tiny Fiat rental towing behind, silently taunted the few Nations that had arrived on time. It wasn't enough that they had to reach the checkpoint at LAX on time but there were keys scattered throughout the country at various locations along the way they had to pick up. If they failed to find even _one_ , the bosses would consider it illegitimate and send them _back_ a month later to do it again.

The RV itself looked fresh off the assembly line with a few added things inside designed for the road trip: pre-packed sleeping bags, camping supplies, tents, and thirteen little iron boxes presumably containing each new clue once they began picking up keys.

So far, America, England, Germany, Prussia, and Canada had arrived on time. They were still waiting on Italy, Romano, Spain, France, China, Japan, and Russia's planes to arrive. Canada was waiting inside for the others at baggage claim while the German brothers felt the need to "make sure it wasn't going to break down" and were examining the entire thing from engine to kitchen sink.

The bosses had really thought of everything. They pooled together enough money to cover gas, one meal per day plus groceries, and the fees for campgrounds. Everyone's credit cards were tapped to deter anyone from booking a hotel and just flying to Los Angeles to meet the deadline. Any and all cheaters would make the entire group's journey invalid. A picture with all twelve of them with each key and city location was also required at the end. And, because twelve beings with millennia of ingenuity between them were a problem, the CIA had kindly agreed to send out various agents scattered across the country to keep an eye on them. Something about "payback for everything we've had to brush under the rug over the years because of you".

Not long after Germany and Prussia finished their inspection and deemed the RV fit, Canada arrived with the remaining priso- travelers. I meant travelers.

"Being trapped in America in an RV with those three for eleven days. One of the many things that is not on my bucket list." England muttered, shoving the duffle into one of the many storage compartments on the outside of the brick-on-wheels.

"Alright everyone, you've got five minutes to grab anything you need from the storage bins, first stop is the supermarket just outside of the city for food. I'm driving." No one bothered to whine about America driving, they didn't exactly know where they were going. The extent of New York that they'd seen over the years consisted of Manhattan alone.

Instead they all silently agreed to plan a nice revenge when this fiasco was over and done with. No one forces Nations to get along. Not even their bosses. A mistake they were going to regret for the rest of their lives.

* * *

 **A/N: So what did you think? It's my first crack at something not horribly depressing and I hope it wasn't too bad. Weekly update schedule.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Day 1, Part 1**

 **A/N: Surprise! Updated a day early. I need places west of Tennessee. Just give me a state, building/location, and possible clue. The more descriptive the better! If you don't I'm going to continue butchering places I haven't been. You hath been warned. You can PM me, 'cause I know people hate reviewing *hint, hint*.**

* * *

"How do you not know the way around your own state, you idiot!"

Somewhere back along the highway after they'd just crossed the New York-Pennsylvania border, America had missed a turn and they were going in the wrong direction. To be fair, trying to navigate a complicated highway system in a vehicle he'd never driven before with eleven other Nations in the background fighting over floor space and the passenger seat was difficult to say the least. Even it was a road he'd been driving for over seventy years.

See, the manual said fifteen people was the maximum capacity while all the slide-compartments were compacted. Whoever wrote it must've meant that the capacity was standing rod-straight with no elbow room. Even with ten in the cabin and the two largest- America and Russia- up front, it was incredibly cramped because everyone was fighting with everyone else.

So America did what any 80s family with a station wagon would do: "If you don't shut the hell up this moment I am turning this RV around and we can all suffer this next month when we miss the deadline!" Naturally they quieted down, for all of five minutes.

After he finally found the correct off ramp he pulled into an old gas station and parked, unbeknownst to the oblivious Nations. He and Russia turned around in their seats to silently watch the bickering men, stealing glances at each other and making a silent agreement.

The dark purple aura that just oozed lunacy radiated from the Slav in the passenger seat, making the ten in the cabin try to back away as much as possible.

"Thanks, dude!" America stood and smiled, completely oblivious to the fear-induced silence. "So here's what we're gonna do. Italy and Romano- you two take the cab over because you're small. France you take the armchair on this side, Spain, Prussia, and Germany can have the couch. England and China you can have the table beside them, it folds down. Canada and Japan, since you two get along the most, can crash on the bed in the back, there's just no seatbelts if something happens. The bed fits three if anyone wants to move. We good?"

He was met with silent nods of content and they began reorganizing themselves. They could actually see the linoleum floor now. "Good, now then." He leafed through the packet his boss had given him containing suggested camp grounds and the only clue they were given for the first key and checked the GPS on his phone. "We are about thirty minutes from the campground but the first key thingy's clue could mean hours from here, what do you want to do?"

"Well what does the clue say, maybe it's for a building or something you know." Italy spoke up from above him.

America shrugged and handed the paper up to him, "It's in Latin. Can you read it?" A few of the Nations frowned, expecting it to be something relating to old Philadelphia or Independence Hall, but apparently they weren't going to make it easy for them.

"It says ' _Suum Cuique pulchrum est'._ " Romano said, "To-"

"To each his own his beautiful." Prussia interrupted, confused.

Romano just shrugged, "He's right." The others stared at the albino, wondering where the hell that came from. Well, all except Germany.

"Well that's fantastic but it doesn't help me figure out where it is." America said, "I don't exactly have a bunch of Latin cities in Pennsylvania."

" _Suum Cuique_ , it was the Prussia motto for the Black Eagle Order." Germany said, "Though why it's a clue is strange."

"Wait it's Prussian?" He sat back down in the driver's seat and started up the engine, the RV lurched forward and they were back on the road before he spoke again. "I know where it is, but it's down by Philadelphia, a good two hours south of here and it's already," he glanced at the dashboard, "almost four thirty. We'd have to search for a new campground nearby or go down to Virginia for the next closest one or just go in the morning on the way and stay up here."

"They key isn't going anywhere any time soon. I vote we stay up here, go to the directed grounds and end it for today. By the time we get down there it will be almost seven and we'd still have to search for the key and a new campground." No one really bothered to argue against England's logic so the rest of the ride to the campsite was spent in relative silence.

* * *

It was almost five thirty when they'd finally parked and hooked up the water and power cables to the RV and after a long day of flying and driving the vote was unanimous to just make sandwiches and go to bed early.

It was almost peaceful. Until France asked about sleeping arrangements. Then everyone started arguing about who got the bed and who had to set up a tent and sleep in the dirt which drew a lot of attention from other families camping nearby. The multi-language insults weren't helping the situation, only earning dirty looks from the few that could understand them.

They'd decided, after twenty minutes of deliberation and literally drawing straws, that the Italies would take the cab over bed like they had on the way over, China would have the couch pull out, Japan would have the table-bed converter, and the North American twins would share the bed in the back. Anyone else had the option to take the floors with the few blankets they had but they all just set up tents in a circle around the RV. Or at least tried to.

"How do you not know how to set up a tent, Gilbert? Is it really that hard?"

"Yes! These things are harder to put together than an Ikea bed!"

"No, frog, you are not sharing a tent with me!"

"Awwww but _Angleterre_ it gets cold at night, we must share body heat to keep warm!"

"You all want to share a tent with me, da?"

"N-no thanks, Ivan. We're good."

The six who were fortunate enough to gain spots inside sat around just watching centuries-old Nations fumble hilariously with the "easy to assemble" instructions for the tents so graciously included with their ride.

"Should we help them?" Canada asked, nibbling on a ham sandwich as he sat on the picnic table with the others.

"Why is this so bloody compli- Francis get the hell away from me!"

"…Nah, it's more fun to watch." America said, taking a bite of his own ham sandwich.

" _Hai_ , I agree with America." Japan had bought himself and China ramen noodles and was happily watching the spectacle with a small smile on his face.

"You should have been with them in the store, I swear they would have kicked us out if we'd stayed in there any longer." China mumbled, remembering the horribly embarrassing experience.

Never mix Winn-Dixie, France, and England. Just don't do it. Ever. You'll regret it.

Italy had been elated to find that they had the pots and pans for cooking a full meal so he'd made Ravioli for himself and anyone who wanted some, despite their assurances that he didn't have to cook. He just sat silently texting Hungary who'd heard about the hell they were living through and had been texting him ever since asking specifically about who was sleeping with who. Italy saw no harm in it so he told her everything.

He couldn't tell if she was serious or not about booking a flight to the States just to spy on them.

Romano was on the roof. He'd dragged his sleeping bag up the ladder and spread out so he was looking up at the sky safely away from the others. If it wasn't nearing winter he would've just stayed up there all night, soaking up as much time away from them as possible. Lord knew when Feli had to sleep outside no one in a five mile radius would get any shut eye. As it was, it hadn't been twelve hours yet and they were already driving each other off a cliff.

* * *

"You have a city named 'King of Prussia'." England would rather have taken a trip down memory lane in Philadelphia than skyrocket Gilbert's ego even more than it already was.

"I didn't name it now come on. Most of the area is residential so there can't be that many places the boss would chose to hide a key."

This time Canada was beside him in the passenger seat, looking up a map of the area oh his phone. "We could try the mall, it's got the same name."

"To the mall it is!"

Navigating a brick-on-wheels through a crowded mall with narrow streets was not fun, but eventually they parked in the back of the lot by the entrance to the mall and filed out into bright sunshine.

"When we leave I suggest three of us take the Fiat and just follow, it's hard to miss this tank on the highway." China said, silently wishing he'd brought sunglasses.

"Worry about that later dude, we got eleven days to find thirteen keys and make it to the Pacific, let's move!"

King of Prussia mall was not a small place, so they'd split into four groups of three to search the place from top to bottom.

Germany, Italy, and Japan went to the second floor of the court. France, Prussia, and Spain went to the lower. England, America, and Canada stayed at the first floor of the plaza. And China, Russia, and Romano took the top.

"Well, I guess we'd better get searching then?" Canada said, taking the lead and walking to the Neiman Markus store. The other two blondes just shrugged and followed, hoping it wouldn't take too long. It was the first key after all, they were sure to go easy on them.

Right?

* * *

 **A/N: That mall has so many freaking stores. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Part 2 next week. Also- I want a beta reader, really don't care who it is either but I'm sure this chapter has mistakes.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Day 1, Part 2**

 **A/N: I can't speak French guys! So Google Translate will have to do.**

* * *

Japan had done the smart thing and got a map and a pen to cross out the many, many stores they'd been to. So far everyone they asked about a key looked at them like they were insane. Whenever it was a girl, they set Italy on her, when it was a guy, Germany. Even with the various tactics they'd used they'd been to seventeen stores already and no one had even the slightest clue as to where the damn key was. For all they knew it wasn't even in the mall. But no one wanted to think about that.

The groups on the bottom floors had taken care of the big two-level stores so at least that wasn't on the daunting to do list.

They were currently in Hometown China making a beeline for the checkout counter.

"Excuse me, _bella signora,_ do you happen to know anything about a key?" Germany and Japan stood back, watching the man work his magic.

 _Come on, come on. Please know something…_ They watched the magic fail once again with a shake of the woman's head and Italy nearly had the "black cloud of depression" over his head as he trudged back to them.

Japan simply scratched out another store on the map and they kept on moving.

-Line Break-

They should have known from the beginning that unleashing the Bad Touch Trio on an innocent American mall was a bad idea. No store clerk was safe- male or female- from the three Europeans.

France, Spain, and Prussia had been trailblazing through their section of the mall, splitting up within their sector to cover more ground faster.

The problem was, some people didn't like their… forwardness. Long Story short France was currently being held by mall security but had the "I regret nothing" expression on. So it was just the two of them going door to door asking for a simple key they knew nothing about for a reason they knew nothing about.

Spain was currently in Yankee Candle talking it up with the cashier about the different scents, even after she declined knowing where the key was. At that moment Prussia walked by the window and backpedaled to wordlessly drag the Spaniard out of the store, apologizing with a salute to the kind lady at the counter who just waved.

"Kesesese, you're looking good, Toni." Prussia said, clapping him on the shoulder with pride.

" _Gracias, mi amigo._ Have you found it yet?" The albino sadly shook his head.

" _Nein_ , but I did talk to a lovely hostess at the Cheesecake Factory who was drooling over my awesome accent."

"Americans, so easy. What do we have left?" Antonio dug the map out of his back pocket and checked over it. "I have… Coach and Gymboree left."

"Really? Wow, even without Francy-pants we're done fast. I just finished my last one." They left to the two final stores, not really expecting to find anything.

-Line Break-

"I'm not going in there."

"Come on Mattie, it won't be that bad."

"Al, I'm not walking in there. You do it."

"Be a man, bro! At least it's not that Intimacy place on the top floor. Imagine Ivan walking in there!"

The two of them stood outside Victoria's Secret. The hot pink she-demon den had two whole stores in one mall, so someone else had to suffer this with them at least. But that provided Canada with very little comfort.

It's not like anyone would recognize him or anything but still. That place was for girls or guys with girlfriends- neither of which fit the Canadian.

"Just don't tell anyone alright?"

"Relax dude, either Ludwig, Kiku, or Feli had to go in the other one. I'm pretty sure none of them want to bring it up either."

 _I can do this. I can… do this._ He squared his shoulders and crossed the threshold, determined to not look at the various scandalous lingerie literally everywhere or the various females attacking each other over them.

 _England better be enjoying the Apple store._ He thought bitterly, trying to avoid touching anything. _Just make it to the counter. It's ten feet dead ahead._ It seemed the Murphy was not letting him skate through scot free, because a woman that should not have been shopping there backed into him and he fell back onto a massive pile of panties.

 _They're touching me! Get it off! Get it off!_ The woman turned to see a very panicked Canada mentally flipping out.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." She held out a hand and he graciously took it, brushing himself off.

" _M-Merci beaucoup_." He stuttered, frantic mind reverting to French.

Her eyes lit up, " _De rien_." She answered, walking away.

Canada was still red in the face upon reaching the counter.

"Are you alright sir?" The woman at the counter asked, having seen the entire thing.

 _France can never know about this. Ever_. "U-um yes. I am now. Do you know anything about a key? Maybe dropped off in the mall sometime this morning or earlier in the week?"

She thought for a second before shaking her head. "No, I'm sorry. But I did hear someone talking about having to let some guys in suits in before the mall opened yesterday."

 _Good enough!_ "Thank you." He said, taking extra care to watch his feet upon leaving the store, leveling it equivalent to that of a minefield.

Thankfully, America didn't see the incident and just gave him a comforting hug when he returned. "It's okay, you did great in there."

"The lady said the mall let guys in suits in yesterday morning before they opened. Meaning we're probably not all wasting our time walking around this place."

"That's great! Come on, Arthur just headed over to the British store on the other side, we've still the rest of the floor to cover." The twins started walking again, heading toward The Limited and far, far away from the pink menace.

-Line Break-

The cashier at American Eagle watched as a tall Russian man, grumpy Italian man, and dour Chinese… man? Walked through the doors of the store and headed straight for her. Definitely the oddest trio she'd ever seen.

Immediately the Italian switched attitudes upon seeing her, "Ah, _bella signora_ , I was wondering if you could help me with something." He flashed the best smile he could, also the one he'd been using all day, hoping this time it would get somewhere.

She smiled back, then stopped faking. "Yeah, it isn't going to work, dude. I've got a boyfriend from Spain."

For his part, Romano's guise didn't falter, even after China and Russia chuckled in the background. He asked the same question he'd been asking all day, and received the same answer he'd been receiving all day- _nada_.

As fast as they appeared they were gone, leaving a very bored cashier behind.

"Next customer!"

-Line Break-

"Alright, this is the last row of stores. The damn key has to be here somewhere." England and the twins had met up after they'd cleared their sections to cover the last three stores on their floor.

Canada cheerily entered the Build-A-Bear, mumbling something about Kumayana while America walked off to the hat store, Lids, leaving England with Kay. The jewelry store was busy that day, all floor staff were assisting real customers so England just stood there waiting for one to finally notice him.

Just as he was about to get incredibly impatient, America ran up to him with Canada right behind him holding something in his hand.

"We got it!" The blonde cheered, stepping aside so Canada could show off the piece of metal they'd been searching two hours for.

The key was an aged brass, shiny on parts that had been worn down with use. It looked at least a hundred years old, possibly belonging to either a chest of drawers or maybe an old trunk. It was rather unassuming overall, nothing special.

"Well it's about bloody time, I'd say. Tell the others yet?" He was already creating a group text when the two said no.

"Come on, let's head back to the entrance, it's gonna take a while for the others to get here."

"Wait." England really looked at the key for once and saw something etched in the side. "There's something written here." America none too graciously ripped the key from his grasp and examined it himself.

"1 8 0 3. A date maybe? D'you think the other keys will be the same?" Whether or not the other keys would contain clues wasn't the question they should have been asking. They should have been asking just how long America's boss- if it even had been just him- had been planning this little excursion.

On the way back America bought himself and Canada one of those big soft pretzels covered in cinnamon while they waited. It didn't take too long and once everyone reunited Canada passed the key around for everyone to see. They quickly got someone to take their picture with the key in front of a mall sign for proof, the photographer raising an eyebrow at the odd request.

"Of course America, myself, Italy, and Russia are the only ones smiling." Canada said, noticing how everyone else just looked either bored or pissed to be there.

"So we have one key down, twelve more to go." China said once they'd gotten back in the RV.

America read the packet for their next destination, "The closest suggested campsite is about six hours from here if traffic is good. If we want to make good time I say a very fast lunch on the road so we can set up camp before it gets too dark out."

"We are not getting fast food, America." France declared, almost daring someone to challenge him.

"I didn't say that, but we don't have time for a sit-down meal. Look, not all my fast food restaurants are terrible- why not Chick-fil-A? It's got real meat and everything!"

"It's still fried food."

"They have grilled!"

"Arguing about it will get us nowhere!" Germany yelled. "I've eaten there before one of the last times we had a meeting over here- I'll vouch for it if it means we get moving."

So that was how, nearly forty minutes later, they all sat around the RV tossing waffle fries at each other and drowning themselves in lemonade. No one shoved their pride and actually admitted it was good food, but America didn't need to hear it to see it clearly written on their faces.

"Pittsburg here we come."

 **A/N: Yes, King of Prussia and its mall are both real places in Pennsylvania. And all fast food restaurants have equal merit, ish. I still need suggestions West of Kentucky else the butchering will continue. It's obviously not the full clue but you can still guess!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Day 2, Part 1**

 **A/N: I haven't been to most of these cities so I'm doing my best with Google on their descriptions. I was going to do West Virginia but that state is so incredibly boring I had to switch it which meant a delayed chapter. That and the Sierra Nevada really hates good wifi connections so technical difficulties (this entire chapter is written on my phone).**

* * *

"What's the next clue?" Spain asked, taking the key from China and picking up the box with a small brass _1_ engraved on the top and pulling out a small, rolled up paper.

They were two hours from Pittsburg, pulled off at another gas station just before the second campsite. Romano, Italy, and Japan had taken the Fiat and pulled up beside them and joined the rest in the RV.

"Someone else is driving that next time. I love those cars, but they were not meant for road trips." Romano said, stretching out his legs. Italy was as bubbly as ever, probably the only one excited about the cross-country trip.

The twelve situated themselves around the cramped space, motioning for Spain to announce the next clue. He read it to himself first, eyebrows knitting together in confusion and a frown on his face.

"What? Is it more Latin?" England asked, half expecting the entire trip to be random locations no one, save America, had ever heard of.

"No… 'The wheels of progress grind exceedingly slow, but they do grind'." He looked up from the paper and shrugged. "That's it _amigos_."

"They couldn't be more descriptive?" Japan asked, wondering how they were supposed to find one key when they couldn't even narrow it down to the state it was in.

"Maybe it's more metaphorical." China offered, "Like, a business district. Progress."

"Pittsburg is called 'Steel City' for a reason. The entire place is geared toward 'progress' and getting things done." America deadpanned, mentally scanning the city for any places that would fit the clue they had, as if it was even there in the first place.

"Maybe it's a company logo? Like that one bank, or a car brand?" Italy tried.

"No, any banks or car dealerships would have multiple locations, and that's assuming we could figure out which one." Germany said, pulling out his phone to ask the great Google for help. Bosses never said they couldn't.

"Well we have to start somewhere or else we'll be sitting here all day. Let's at least get inside Pittsburg before throwing out too many possibilities, it's not that big of a city is it?" France asked, trading places with Spain for shotgun.

America just snorted in response, shaking his head.

* * *

It was an hour into the drive, Japan, Prussia, and Canada taking the Fiat tailing behind them. While America drove and France fiddled with the XM radio, the remaining Nations sat around trying to figure out just what the clue meant.

Germany was still searching away on his phone on the couch next to Italy, Romano had taken up the entire bedroom for his "afternoon siesta, _bastardo_ " and hadn't noticed Spain shuffle in after he'd gone dead to the world, Russia was watching the trees blur by while sitting motionless on the armchair, and England was glaring at the wall while seated at the table with China.

"Hey France, pass me the note. I want to see something." The blonde in question tossed the entire box back without even looking, nearly hitting Italy in the head in the process. Italy freaked out and started waving his white flag in surrender, waking Romano who kicked Spain out of the room and started ranting in rapid Italian.

England just sighed and picked up the little box, opening it and rereading the short clue. _The wheels of progress grind exceedingly slow, but they do grind. Progres_ s. Something else in the box caught his attention and for a moment he just stared at it.

Moment over. "Spain you sodding idiot!" Inside the box was the rest of the clue, a blue Bicycle playing card. Holding up the card accusingly he glared at the Spanish Nation. "How the hell did you miss this?"

"What? What is it?" The others scrambled over like kindergarteners awaiting story time. Well, others aside from Russia and America who remained staring out the window and driving, respectively.

England sighed, turning the card over and over again waiting for something helpful to happen. "Somehow," he glared at Spain again, "he missed this in the box."

Italy took the card and laughed. "It kinda looks like you, France."

Said Nation frowned, examining it himself. "I do not nor have I ever had a _moustache_!"

Before more screaming could escalate, the RV suddenly screeched to a halt, sending everyone flying forward and crashing into one another.

"Glad you finally shut up!" America chirped from the front, unaffected by the sudden stop and the annoyed looks sent his way. "Now then- my country, my rules. I'd like to see one of _you_ drive this tank with all of us yelling at each other back there."

Taking the silence as an invitation to resume talking, England wrenched the card away from France and set it next to the note and the key with the numbers on it. "Well then, America, since you seem so willing to take command- figure out where we're supposed to go and _I'll_ drive."

The other Nations were quick to volunteer over England's offer, much to the Brit's displeasure and it ended up with China looking hilariously out of place in the driver's seat.

"1, 8, 0, 3, wheels of progress, and the king of diamonds…." None of them wanted to acknowledge it but it felt incredibly annoying not only lacking knowledge of where they were but that the only one who knew anything was discretely enjoying every second of it. China was still figuring out how the RV worked, accidentally pressing the accelerator while it was still in park and revving the engine loudly.

"Welp," America said, giving the key one last glance before tossing it aside. "The state is Ohio. 1803 was when it got admitted and it's where planes were invented- major progress and stuff there."

England threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why the bloody hel were we waisting all this time if you figured it out in five seconds?!"

The bus lurched forward harshly and Romano banged his head against the cabinets. "Because I'm the only one that can drive this thing and knows where I'm gong." He shrugged and started making his way back up front. "Ohio isn't the smallest state out there- we still don't know which city it's in."

The others just groaned and got back to work.

* * *

"…Does anyone want the radio on?"

The RV felt oddly empty with only silence surrounding them, even if it was still crowded. Romano was now in the passenger seat reading ahead in the packet at the vague route they had to follow. There wasn't exactly one road they had to take mapped out for them- it was just a list of suggested campsites not even in order on one page and that was it. They tried figuring out their next destination without the help of the next key but the general direction was simply west.

It honestly looked like one of those matching tests where they gave you at least five more answers than necessary so you couldn't just use process of elimination to fill in the spaces you didn't know.

"How much do you want to bet that our bosses would go out of their way for a bizarre location just to fuck with us?" Romano asked, shoving the packet aside with a huff.

"That's probably exactly what they did, aru."

"They gave us this card for a reason…" Germany said, scrutinizing the waxy paper with a harsh cerulean gaze.

"Wouldn't it just be perfect if the second city was 'King of Spain' or something?"

America was in his own little world completely ignoring the Brit's comments, trying to figure out where the hell they were supposed to go. _King of diamonds, king of diamonds…. King diamonds… King's Island_. "Guys I got it!" Oh those bosses were so going to pay for this…

"Ooh, really?!" Italy practically materialized between the to seats, bouncing with excitement.

"Yeah… But you guys aren't gonna like it." They thought they were so damn clever…

"It can't be any worse than the mall, amigo."

 _Ha! Yeah right_. Pulling off to the exit bound for Cambridge, he sighed. "Kings Island. That's where we have to go for the second key. It's an amusement park on the other side of Ohio."

Imagine twelve Nations dressed for casual business walking around an amusement/water park in the middle of summer… _Oh God, the poor tourists._

* * *

Standing just outside the main gate wearing their best "walking around all day in blistering heat" clothes, each Nation was in various states of dread and excitement.

"If I get a sunburn on my awesome skin, I'm suing you." Prussia sauntered inside followed eagerly by France and Spain.

"I am wondering what my boss was thinking when he agreed to this." Russia asked, not wearing his characteristic coat but still in long pants and a long sleeve shirt.

"You are not the only one, aru."

"Shall we agree on unanimous revenge when this is all over then?" England suggested, praying to the deities above that he didn't get burnt too bad and be subject to a week of torment courtesy of his brothers.

* * *

 **A/N: Now, I've never been to Kings Island but I live near Orlando and we've got like, six different water parks and even more theme parks not counting Disney within a hundred mile radius.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Day 2, Part 2**

 **A/N: Props to you guys that picked up on my BY/RF reference and I'm totally not giving that more attention that this... Fun fact: To figure out the layout of this amusement park, I Google Earth-ed my way around for about an hour in street mode. Anyway enjoy!**

* * *

When one lived in the tropics he or she learned very quickly the art of staying cool. That meant air conditioning, shorts, sleeveless shirts, and usually open-toed shoes. Russia didn't get the memo. He would never be caught complaining about it (Russia _not_ wanting the heat?) but still.

This was not enjoyable.

And on top of the heat, he had no idea where the others were. Sitting outside the strange yellow ride with a cartoon dog with aviator goggles on the sign, Russia just hoped someone would happen to walk by that he knew.

But for now, despite the heat, he was content to enjoy the sunshine.

* * *

" _Fratello_ ride this with me!"

"No. We are here to find the key and move on."

"But _fratellooooooo_ it's wooden! And remember that one time at-"

"Veneziano! We do not talk about that."

Feliciano giggled, still trying to convince his brother to ride _The Beast_ with him. "It's just ice cream, Romano." They had just come from _The Italian Job_ and if possible Feliciano was even more full of energy than before arriving.

"Who said I liked ice cream? Gelato is way better."

"Don't change the subject, _fratello_. If you ride this with me I won't tell big brother Spain about it~"

Romano stopped struggling and stared in disbelief at the happy go lucky brunette he called brother. "You wouldn't."

"Ve~ big brother Spain! Romano wanted me to tell you about this one time Alfred invited us to Disney and he got this ice cream cone-"

Romano clamped a hand over his mouth scanning the crowd for the Spaniard who thankfully wasn't there. "Alright, alright. I'll ride it with you." With a huge grin Feliciano got them a place in line. "But only because I like the original wooden coasters." He grumbled, crossing his arms with a scowl.

"Whatever you say _fratello_."

* * *

Japan found himself in a git shop staring at the copious amounts of neon-dyed cavities-waiting-to happen.

"It's so Western…" So he took a picture of a giant blue raspberry pixie stick. And the rest of the candy. And the overpriced t-shirts.

Looking at one of the tags, he started mentally deducting what he could afford not to pay for later in order to get a souvenir now. "Well it's only $39.99. That's not $40 so I should be fine…"

But then he saw the stuffed animals.

"So _kawaii_ …"

* * *

"It's just water, aiyah! How does it cost three entire dollars? That's stealing!"

"Come now Yao, it isn't so bad. What if you were the chubby water vendor? You need that money for more McDonald's after all."

All China wanted was a drink. No food, no sweets. Just some water. Some nice, cool, refreshing, overpriced water. England had gotten in line behind him and, like the other five people in line, was getting rather impatient at the Chinaman's attempt at negotiating the price.

Forking over the cash with a sigh, he nearly downed the entire bottle in one go. "It's genius! I should make water monopoly along with my Chinatowns!"

"You do that. I am going to search for some actual food that isn't fried. Look at how long the queue has gotten in just a few seconds." Sure enough they seemed to appear out of nowhere, multiplying by the second.

"The what?"

"What?"

"You said 'look how long the queue has gotten'."

England arched a caterpill- I mean eyebrow, "Yes, your point?"

"…. Never mind. I'm calling Alfred to see if he has any leads on the key."

"As I said before, you do that."

China watched him walk off, wishing he had more water. _What on earth is a 'queue' anyway_? "Eh, maybe Opium's finally gone crazy."

* * *

"Dude I got no idea on where this thing is." America and Canada were in line for Invertigo, but as far as China was concerned they were actively searching for the key and not enjoying thrill rides.

" _What about where it wouldn't be?_ "

Shifting on his feet in an effort to escape the sun, the blonde sighed. "Well it probably won't be backstage or anything. It has to be somewhere hum- er civilians would have access to."

Canada rolled his eyes at the slip up and shuffled forward half a foot. _Progress!_

" _So on one of the rides then?_ "

"I guess so I mean they're making us work for it but it's not impossible. But on a ride? It seems risky."

" _Since when do they care about our safety?_ "

"Touché." Canada tugged on his arm and he looked up at the attendant gesturing to the available car.

"No personal items, sir."

"Yeah give me a sec. Yao I gotta go."

" _Wait!_ " Setting the phone in one of the cubbies the twins strapped in without a care in the world.

* * *

 _I am not enjoying this. I am definitely not even considering enjoying this._ "Woohooo!" The rails jostled the cart like a bad massage as they went up and down the wooden support beams.

It was the second time they rode it, sitting in the very back to get the most out of the coaster's harsh bumps.

"Smile _fratello!_ " Feliciano yelled, just before the camera flashed.

It felt like the ride was over only a second later but the thrill of it all hadn't faded yet.

Until Feliciano spoke. "Ve~ I want our picture this time!"

"What?" The euphoria went up in smoke. Roller coaster photographs were notoriously terrible.

"I never see you this happy, Romano. I want to remember it forever!" He hugged Romano who quickly shoved him off.

A group of girls behind them 'awwwed' and Romano's trademark scowl was back. "If you don't let me get it I'll buy you another ice cream cone and we'll ride something else."

" _Bastardo_." The older Italian hissed. "You can't make me."

"There are other ways to embarrass you with ice cream~"

Romano hung his head in defeat. "Just… don't make any copies."

"Yay!"

"Che. Whatever."

* * *

"Why am I not surprised that there is a place called _International Street?_ "

"Do you want to eat at my place or your place, _amigo?_ "

"There is one rule with traveling to other countries every tourist should follow- never eat cuisine from your own home."

"True but it's either this or that funnel cake over there."

"Oui… Then how about Sweden's place?"

"But I want churros…" France and Spain hadn't really gone past the front gate, spending most of their time watching the many girls in skimpy outfits walk by with the "someone else can find the key" philosophy.

"How about this- as long as I don't have to even smell a plate of tomato sauce we'll both get whatever and then head to the water park." The way France's suggestive expression just screamed "best idea ever!" made Spain agree before he finished talking.

France glanced back at the Eiffel Tower replica one last time with a small smile before heading off to the first restaurant that didn't serve pasta.

* * *

"West! West look!" Prussia had found _Oktoberfest_. "Buy me beer! Buy me beer! Buy me beer!"

"You know you won't like it, East."

Prussia glared, "Do I look like I give a damn? Beer! Beer! Beer!"

"People are starting to stare. I'll buy you one if you shut up." Even if it was a replica of the original in Germany, it was still a replica. Just not the same. Prussia did not have the same qualms, however, and was dragging his brother like a little kid in an effort to get the glorious drink.

"Live a little, West. No one here knows us anyway."

"You are a German making a beeline for beer. They don't have to know us to figure it out."

Prussia gasped, looking rather affronted. "The awesome me is pure Prussian! Buy me a beer to make up for that insult."

With a sigh, Germany pulled out his wallet and handed Gilbert a twenty. "Where did all of your spending money go?"

"Thanks West!"

"First I have to buy you wurst when we have some in the RV, then it was the pretzel and now it's beer. Dare I ask what's next?"

* * *

At some point in the afternoon, England and Japan had paired up to go searching for the key. After scanning the rest of the park's main attractions the only place left was Cony Mall and all the little game booths inside.

"Hey Kiku?"

" _Hai?_ "

"Have you ever beaten the game where you throw the rings on the bottles for a prize?"

"Do you want to play the bottle game, Arthur-san?"

"No! Of course I don't. What makes you think that?"

"No reason."

They continued in silence for a while passing by booth after booth until, "Alright maybe I do want to play."

Japan smiled but he missed it, "Then what are you waiting for?"

"It's… unbecoming of me to play such a childish game."

Now Japan stopped, pulling a stuffed Snoopy out of his backpack and hugging it with no shame. "Live a little, Arthur-san. How often do we get the chance to go to a theme park like this and actually enjoy ourselves for the day?" Gently smushing the plush back inside the pack, Japan pointed to one of the booths. "Go have fun, England-san. No one's judging you."

So England paid the fee, played the game, and very quickly lost his money in the end. "Well it was fun either way, I guess."

"That's good for you, Arthur-san." The two continued walking, enjoying the cooler air now that the sun was setting.

"Come one, come all to try your luck!" Both Nations turned to watch a worker in front of one of those big hammer games swinging said hammer around invitingly. "Today's prize is a special one!" Out of his pocket he drew a very familiar piece of metal they recognized even from across the walkway.

"Is that what I think it is?" England asked, staring at it like it was solid gold.

" _Hai_ , I think so."

"This key is a special key! For it opens a box somewhere in the park and even I don't know exactly what's inside. It could be anything." The man said, a sly grin working it's way onto his face.

"Come on, Kiku, let's see what this is about." England doubted it opened a box in the park, he just had to come up with a cover for the strange prize, not that he was complaining.

The worker seemed to seek them out almost immediately from the crowd, waving them over. "Hello there sirs! Would either of you like a chance to play for the prize?"

It suddenly occurred to England that he could never hit the platform hard enough to reach the bell at the top and with all of these people watching it would be humiliating. "No thank you."

If possible he looked even more mischievous. "Ah! Is that an accent I hear?"

All eyes were on him now, "Well, yes." He said slowly, not liking the attention.

"A Brit?" The man asked and he nodded.

"Well then mister British man, are you sure you don't want to win this very special key?"

"Hey Limey! Move aside I want a shot!" Gilbert strode forward with a grin and Germany right behind him followed by Japan who must've dragged them over.

"Oh what't this?" The carny asked.

"Before you guess it I'm Prussian. Now give me that awesome hammer." The gathered crowd chuckled at his attitude and some cheered him on. Though England was glad to be out of the spotlight he wished it wasn't Gilbert that stole the show.

"Hey West!" The albino called, hefting the hammer on his shoulder. "If I lose you have to try too."

Germany looked relatively uncomfortable with the situation and didn't give a response. So Gilbert swung. The hammer pounded onto the platform and the lights lit up with the ball's path upward. It went up… and then it promptly went down.

The crowd tsked but clapped nonetheless. "Hey now, 86 is still a good score. Did you want to try again?"

"I would be liking to try the nice hammer now." How they had failed to notice the six-foot Russian approach, no one knew, but his sweet smile made the crowd give him a wide berth.

"No dice, Ruski. I said West was next."

"Gilbert, just let him take a turn. I don't want mine anyway."

Narrowing his eyes, he gave the hammer over with a dramatic sigh. Russia smiled again and shoed him away before taking the hammer in both hands and arcing it down on the poor platform.

Nearly a second later a loud ding and cracking sound was heard. Only a moment of hesitation before they erupted into claps and cheers. Russia turned to the baffled carny, "I think I will be taking my prize now."

"S-sure dude. Here you go." He tossed the key which disappeared in Russia's grasp.

" _Spasibo_."

At least they had the key now. The key and one mentally scarred American teen.

* * *

They left the park before sunset, piling back in the RV and dying for showers.

"I can't believe Russia did that."

"I don't know, Artie. But we got the key, that's all that matters right? What does it say, anyway?"

Right, there was hopefully something engraved on the thing like last time. This key mirrored the first one almost exactly, possibly a little more worn on the handle. "It says…" England held it up to the light and read the tiny print out loud, "1 8 4 9."

"More dates?" Prussia asked from behind them,. "Let's take the damn picture and get inside, the awesome me does not like being sweaty while sitting in cars."

They managed to take the most awkward selfie ever, a nearly impossible feat with the twelve of them trying to get in the shot all at once. Japan's phone had a timed camera so the taker could be in the picture but with nowhere to set it the phone was leaned against a rock angled up at them from the ground. This time no one was smiling, looking severely uncomfortable from the heat and having to be so close to the others.

Disregarding the Fiat for the moment they decided the most important move was to open the next box and figure out where the hell they were going next.

Japan opened the second box while the remaining eleven held their breaths in a loose circle around the "living room" of the RV. "This one is longer than the other two and written strangely." He announced before reading it, "The port is NEar, the bells I hear, the peopLe all eXultinG.-"

"I know that poem!" America cried, ripping the paper from Japan's grasp. "-while fOllow eyes the steadY keel, the vessel grim and dariNg. But o heart! HEart! Heart! O The bleeding dRops of red, where on the deck My Captain lies, fallEn cold and dead."

The blonde's mood changed dramatically from when he began. Instead of the cheerful American they all knew he was all sullen and depressed by the time he finished. If they didn't know better they'd say he was close to tears.

Canada, who knew the poem's origin almost as well as his twin did, did his best to comfort him while the others shifted uncomfortably. "It was written for Lincoln, after he was assassinated." He explained quietly, drawing collective 'oh's' from everyone in understanding, even Russia who was pretty much allies with America at that point.

Japan cleared his throat, "Apologies, America-san, but do you have any idea what the clue could mean?"

At the flip of a switch the bright smile was back as well as a booming laugh. "'S okay buddy, the past is the past." He scanned the paper once more before continuing. "Well I have a few places named after him, Lincoln, Missouri isn't too far away. But there's also the counties in Nebraska and Mississippi."

Canada gingerly took the paper from him and stared at the letters again. "Some of the letters are capitalized… that has to be the real clue." China took the paper and wrote out all the capitalized letters onto the back.

" E" He said, passing the paper around.

"It might be an anagram." Germany said once he saw the paper, flipping it between back and front.

"Well we'd better figure it out soon because we spent too long here already and we still don't know where we're going." Romano spoke up, glancing out the window at the darkening skies closing in on them.

They decided to extend the collapsible sections and just stay put for a while, since it would be pointless to waste gas driving around aimlessly. Italy reheated the leftover pasta and passed it out for a makeshift dinner while everyone worked on cracking the code to continue on their crazy cross-country excursion.

* * *

 **A/N: There were so many things I could choose from for this chapter, hope this is okay. In Florida's amusement parks it really can reach $3 for one bottle of water.**

 **I've got most of the route planned now, but from Tennessee to around Nevada I'd rather not write corn fields (no offense). I'll take the biggest ball of yarn people! Anything interesting about the Great Plains from someone who's actually seen it.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Day 3, Part 1**

 **A/N: Just an estimate, there's probably going to be about twenty-four chapters here, give or take two since it's pretty structured. Oh and this got separated from last chapter: Disclaimer- Walt Whitman wrote** ** _O Captain! My Captain!_** **Not me.**

* * *

It was pouring now, the onslaught on the roof of the bus a steady buzz in the background. After a half hour of going through different words and scribbling them over the maps from the mall, most of the Nations were getting slightly agitated with their non-existent findings. They didn't know if it was a city, a building, or even someone's name, and it was increasingly difficult to narrow down.

"What if some of these letters aren't a part of the code?" Japan asked, reading the front again. "Some of them are capitalized because of grammar rules while the rest are within words."

England sighed tiredly, "Why not try it, then? We've got nothing to lose and nothing else is working." So Japan crossed out all the letters that began sentences, forming a new list: E.

"What about the four numbers on the key?" Prussia asked, "What were they? 1 8 4 9?"

"Why did our bosses think it was a good idea to do this, aru? We're only getting more frustrated because of their vague clues." China had begun pacing a while back, folding and unfolding his arms in frustration.

"Let's just take it slowly." Spain said, trying to be the peacekeeper. "America, was there anything of significance that happened in 1849?"

The blonde had taken to sitting cross-legged on the floor leaning back against the driver's seat. "Well the biggest thing was the gold rush, but that was in California."

"You said the poem was about Lincoln, da? He has something to do with this." Russia said, turning his pipe over in his hands.

"I don't see how, the man wasn't really of much importance until he became president, a decade after '49. I mean, yeah he did stuff but it wasn't enough to gain much political press." _(1)_

"Well we know wherever the next clue is will be at most eight hours from here, it has to be otherwise we'd never make the deadline with the keys all spread out." France had claimed the cab over, lazily draping an arm over the side as he spoke.

There was a moment of silence while everyone dredged up as much as they could on that one name, which was almost nothing for most as America was still trying for isolation at the time.

"I got it!" America suddenly stood, "Lincoln was from Kentucky. Which is right below us. That has to be what poem itself was for."

"Then would the anagram be a city in Kentucky?" Japan said, surrounded by scratch paper at the little kitchenette table.

America snapped his fingers, "Probably. What were the letters again?" Japan handed him the paper and his smile immediately brightened. "There's an X in the list. The city we're looking for must have an X in its name, which will narrow it down a lot."

With renewed vigor, the Nations got to work mapping Kentucky out. "I've got Lexington!" Prussia shouted proudly, shoving his smart phone at America to confirm.

"I thought Lexington was in Massachusetts." England said, remembering the town's importance in the Revolution. Definitely not native to Kentucky.

"Artie, I've got like, six Lexingtons across the continent. There is one in Kentucky, about two hours from here if we're lucky."

"Well let's go then! I'll drive the Fiat with Lovi." Spain was almost out the door when America stopped him, cutting off the scathing remark from the Southern Italian.

"Dude hold up a sec, it's still raining buckets and there will definitely be traffic on the highways because of it. Just hitch it back on and stay with us. You'll thank me later."

Twenty minutes and four soaked Nations later, they were on the road to Lexington, Kentucky.

* * *

"I've got a deck of cards here, anyone want to play?"

As America predicted, it was bumper-to-bumper traffic on the interstate and the sky was only getting darker. Canada had taken road trips with his twin before and knew they could get boring in times like these, so he'd come prepared.

The blonde tossed the used-and-abused deck at Prussia who started shuffling, happy to have something to do besides sit and watch the tail lights of the cars in front of them.

"Blackjack anyone?"

France, Spain, and Romano joined in immediately, while the others, with absolutely nothing better to do, sat down in a loose rectangle and waited to be dealt in.

They played eight games by the time America finally got on the off ramp to Lexington and England had won once, Prussia twice, Italy once, Romano once, Russia twice, and Spain once.

"Dudes, what do we want to do about dinner, if at all?" America spoke up from the front, having been virtually silent throughout the duration of the drive.

"How far are we from the city and where are the closest grounds?" Germany asked, having been the only other Nation not to get in on the card games while sitting up front in the passenger seat.

"If I'm right, the city is five minutes from here, but I have no idea where the grounds are, no one told me."

"I'm sick of this picnic food, let's find a restaurant and sit down somewhere, then we can figure out the rest of the clue." France left no room for discussion, but no one was going to argue against a nice sit-down meal anyway.

"As if we could all agree on a single restaurant in a timely manner." England rolled his eyes and prepared for an overly-drawn out battle over restaurant-superiority.

In the end, after being pulled over by police for nearly running someone over in the chaos of trying to decide, they picked the closest venue which happened to be a smokehouse.

* * *

"What is this 'pulled pork' all over the menu? It sounds greasy." The restaurant had done itself a big favor by making their menu short and to the point.

Unfortunately even if there was only one food option they'd figure out a way to argue over it, as the poor waitress was just discovering. She wasn't even sure if she should approach the table at all to ask them for drinks much less take their orders. They looked, in her opinion, ready to flip the tables up into barricade formation and go at it with the steak knives.

Not only that, the group itself was incredibly strange. It seemed they had one guy from each country and they were trying to be as authentic as possible. If she didn't know better, she'd think they were all extremely dedicated LARPers or something.

Still, when she overhead the one Asian guy ask what pulled pork was, she knew she was in for a long night.

"Ivan, your foot is touching mine!"

"Honhonhon~"

"Shut it frog! Alfred that's not how you properly place your napkin!"

"They don't have vodka here… kolkolkolkol."

"Aiyah! This is so confusing, why couldn't we eat somewhere else?"

"Aww, I get to sit next to my Lovi~"

"Chigi! Shu up, damn bastard!"

"The awesome me does not see beer on this menu."

"It's at the bottom, Gilbert."

"West! I said _beer_ not piss!"

"Everyone is staring at us, guys…"

…

Maybe if she quietly took off her apron and set it on an empty table, no one would notice she left with her sanity still intact.

"Oi! Our waitress is waiting for us."

Well there goes that plan. She glanced off to the side where her colleagues sent her pitying looks before brightly turning back to their tables of sane patrons.

"So, um, drinks. Who wants to start?" She should never have given them that option. She should have just started with the quiet, dopey redhead who looked remarkably like the Italian arguing with the Spanish guy, maybe they were brothers.

"What do you have?" A soft voice asked from in between the tall blonde with the strange hair and the short blonde with horrendous eyebrows.

The waitress inwardly sighed. It was a big pet peeve of hers when people asked what they had- it was written clearly on the menu every single time. But the way he asked, so nice and pleasantly unlike his friends, she just had to answer him equally as pleasantly.

So she listed off the common fountain drinks, their three beer brands and the wide assortment of iced teas. Halfway through, when the rest were still arguing amongst each other, the quiet blonde she still didn't know the name of mouthed an apology and said the regular iced tea was just fine with him.

If only the others were that easy. It must've taken ten minutes minimum to get just the drink orders for the remaining eleven people at the table. Half the time they requested something that wasn't on the menu even after the umpteenth time she'd relayed the entire beverage selection.

At least they'd have a hefty check… that she'd have to break into twelve separate ones. Damn it.

Some two hours and her entire sanity later, they finally paid and left. At least they had the courtesy to leave tips, especially the quiet blonde and the quiet Asian man across from him.

She walked up to her manager who had been watching nearly the entire time. "If they ever come back, don't let them in. It doesn't matter how much they're willing to pay."

"…Agreed."

One of the waiters came up to her and grinned, "I got the whole thing on video- going on YouTube the second my shift is over."

* * *

Prussia had been sitting comfortably in the passenger's seat playing a special version of _Angry_ _Birds_ Japan had made for him when Denmark texted him.

 **Awesome Viking:** Hey, Gilbert! You'll never guess what Icey showed me  
 **You:** If it's another unawesome video of you pranking Moody Viking and failing I'm good  
 **Awesome Viking:** No, HK sent him the video and he was actually laughing!  
 **You:** I thought Moody was the one that didn't laugh  
 **Awesome Viking:** Not the point! Here's the link.

Prussia tapped the video link and the first thing to catch his attention was the title: _Never let Model UN into Your Restaurant_

 _Scheiße…_ The video was thirty minutes long, looking like it came from a security camera. Just to be sure, he skipped ahead in the video periodically stopping and listening to the dialogue. Seeing the post date was just over four hours ago and already had over twenty-thousand views.

 **You:** How many of the others have seen this?  
 **Awesome Viking:** Even Norge agreed to watch it  
 **You:** And you didn't think to I don't know TELL ME?!  
 **Awesome Viking:** Why?  
 **You:** Dummkopf it's us! How did you not recognize us?  
 **Awesome Viking:** …Oh  
 **You:** Our bosses are going to kill us. What if West sees it?!  
 **Awesome Viking:** Relax Gil. Since when is Germany ever on the internet?  
 **You:** You'd be surprised  
 **You:** Danke for telling me  
 **Awesome Viking:** No prob!

Sometimes living in the 21st Century sucked. Before the night was over who knew how much publicity the video would get? Or worse, how much _other_ information it would dredge up from more serious topics.

"Yo Prussia! You okay, dude? You look paler than normal, if that's even possible." America stole a glance at the albino and his phone before snickering and turning back to the road.

"What's so funny?"

"Dude, I've already got Tony on it. Don't worry about it."

"Wait, you knew?"

A smirk was all he got in response.

* * *

"I think I figured it out." Japan set down his collection of notes on the small table and allowed a tiny smile of satisfaction.

Almost everyone was dead to the world, seeing as it was somewhere around 2 a.m. and half of them were still suffering from jet lag. The only ones still awake were Japan, China, Russia, and America. Everyone else had been too lazy to build tents and were making do with floor space.

Even though he was way too tired to stay awake, America had elected to help out with the anagram while China and Russia played Go Fish with each other next to them. Back home it was mid-day for them.

"Really?" America whisper-yelled, "That's awesome."

Japan simply nodded, passing the notes over. "The remaining letters spell out 'cemetery', making the location of the key somewhere in Lexington Cemetery."

The blonde's smile instantly faded. "The cemetery?" He sat back and sighed, "Of course it's a cemetery ' _And on the deck my captain lies, fallen cold and dead'_. Only a few minutes from here actually but the place is huge."

"Is Lincoln there?" China asked, looking up from his hand before placing a two pair down.

America just shook his head. "Nope. But there are a lot of Civil War guys." _(2)_

"Are we leaving now or are we waiting until the morning?" Russia placed down the winning pair, smirking at China's scowl.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say we don't want to run out of time." China grumbled.

"Then I'll get the bus moving. Looks like we're breaking into a national cemetery tonight."

* * *

The breaking in part was actually the easiest of the whole ordeal. Now, waking irritated Nations from a peaceful sleep? _That_ was challenging. Mainly because they had to be quiet about it. All twelve of them had centuries of experience sneaking around places they weren't supposed to be in, a loosely-guarded cemetery was the least of their worries.

Even so, they took precautions. The RV was parked several blocks away while Italy and Romano left to get fifty-cent flashlights for each of them.

"Everyone split up and keep your phones on silent. Text the group chat when you find it. Let's make this as fast as possible because this could be counted as a federal offense alright? I don't want all that paperwork to deal with."

It was almost like Pac-Man. With twelve Pac-Men, four ghosts running around, and one cherry on the board they had to reach without getting caught or chased by said ghosts.

That was, until Italy thought the shadow from his flashlight was someone out to get him. The scream of terror was heard by every soul-dead or alive- within a half-mile.

 _Take one for the team, Feli. Take one for the team._ Romano resisted the impulse to run to his brother's aid, instead allowing him to be a distraction. He hid behind a gravestone as the guard he'd seen once or twice ran right past him yelling into a walkie-talkie.

The Italian wasn't exactly happy with having been violently shaken awake by his happy-go-lucky twin to go on a mission to retrieve flashlights but even he had to admit this crazy rendition of hide-and-seek was actually kind of fun. The adrenaline pumped wildly through his veins as he watched the guard's flashlight fade into the foggy distance behind him and the second his footsteps were out of range he got moving again.

* * *

Russia was enjoying himself. Not only did the others actually _agree_ to let him stalk around a graveyard in the middle of the night, but they never considered the fact that he'd waste time on purpose just to go through this again.

See, no one ever _willingly_ spent time with the Slav. They were all too terrified to even talk to him outside the safety of the meeting hall under possibility of angering the largest country on the planet with a twitchy trigger finger.

But this… eleven other countries were forced to spend time with him in close quarters and on top of it all they had to cooperate while doing so. And the best part was he didn't have to threaten anyone to make it happen, the foolish American had done all his work for him.

So Russia took his time searching for that little key. Because the second they reached Los Angeles everyone would go home and not speak to him again until the next summit or diplomacy meeting. If they somehow "missed" the deadline "accidentally" they would have to go through the entire thing again.

Was he the only one that kind of wanted that to happen?

What if he found the key and tossed it in one of several lakes here? He could very easily take one of the clue boxes and "accidentally" toss it out the passenger window when no one was looking.

Up ahead something glinted in a low branch of a tree. _The key._ It would have been very difficult to see during the day but with the moonlight bouncing off it the light created start contrast against the dark foliage surrounding it.

Soft footsteps off to the left made the Russian freeze. Between him and whoever made the sounds was a big mausoleum so he didn't have to worry about being seen but for all he knew it was another Nation. Maybe Mr. Pipe could help out with this one… just one hit in the right place and he could blame the guards for the inconvenience.

As the mystery person came into view the Slav matched his pace to conceal his footsteps, only a few feet behind whoever it was. Then he came into the light. _Oh, it's Canada._ The blonde was probably the only one in the entire group Russia could tolerate. They shared a lot of the same problems and were both outcasts in different ways. It was because of that, that Russia grudgingly backed off and watched Canada finally spot the key and was just about to reach it when a twig snapped.

Faster than Russia thought possible the blonde spun around to face him, trying to suppress a shriek of surprise. "M-maple." Upon realizing who it was he immediately relaxed. "I thought you were someone else." Without wasting any more time Canada reached up and grabbed the key, hesitating a second before tossing it to Russia who caught it with surprise. "We're supposed to work together, eh. I've already found one and it looks like you were here before me."

After alerting the others the two arctic Nations rendezvoused back at the RV while America went to rescue Italy.

* * *

"Alright, Russki. What's in box number four?"

Instead of cramping up the RV again, the twelve congregated outside the gas station in a loose circle. No one bothered to mention how strange it must've looked from the inside. Twelve people all from different countries standing outside a massive recreational vehicle in the middle of the night at a run-down gas station. Nope, not weird at all.

Russia opened the box and frowned. "It is tree branch."

"Heh?" Sure enough, inside the box was a snippet of tree somewhat dried out with the leaves partially falling off.

"What the bloody hell are we supposed to do with a sodding tree branch?" It did look rather unassuming. Nothing really unique about it.

"There's obviously something special about it. You should know your plants better." China chastised, yet made no move to examine the plant himself.

"Oh and I suppose you know exactly what it is."

"I didn't say that. Take it to a botanist in the morning, they'll know what tree it belongs to."

They all ignored the blonde's grumblings and sleepily shuffled inside. China had a very good idea at what the branch belonged to, it was kind of obvious given the country they were in. But annoying the western Nations was more fun, especially when they were all sleep deprived.

The brunette simply smirked and called dibs on the back bed, silently betting on how long it would take for them to figure it out.

 **A/N: I had no idea the chapter had gotten to be so long, hope you enjoyed that. Have fun guessing, this one is a lot simpler than the others. Also- starting here will begin the footnotes- my little tidbits of American history and such that, if you read RF/BY will possibly be repeats.**

 **Footnotes:**

 **1\. Abraham Lincoln; 16** **th** **president of the US and the first of four that were successfully assassinated. He did the "Four score and seven years ago" speech and advocated the emancipation proclamation that freed the slaves (that didn't do anything for several years anyway but still). He served as president from 1861 to 1865. Pretty well-known guy.**

 **2\. Lexington National Cemetery (and yes there are multiple Lexingtons across the US) was the first cemetery used for casualties of the Civil War in 1861, even though it was established in 1849. They actually picked bodies up off the battle site and shipped them off to be buried there.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Day 3, Part 2**

 **A/N: I finally figured out the route they're taking instead of making it up as I go (pretty good for improve if I do say so myself) but I'm still taking location suggestions because, sorry, some of these states are incredibly boring.**

* * *

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, I-"

"Back of the line then."

France and Spain had volunteered to take the mystery branch to a local botanist which happened to be the most tedious day they'd had in a while. First they had to find the place, which took 45 minutes. Then they had to get inside but the door was locked with an electric keycard. Once an assistant had let them in they got to the front desk and the only person there was a woman in her fifties with inch-long fingernails, librarian glasses, and an "I'm better than you in every way" attitude.

There were only three people in line but still, lines moved slower than Congress on a bad day no matter where you were. Before France could tell her how they were not going to take her crap, Spain held him back and whispered a plan in his ear.

"Ah, _señorita_ , I apologize for my friend's behavior. He just doesn't understand the stress of the job, you know?" As Spain talked he waved the all-clear and France made a beeline for the elevators.

The elevator doors opened to an open-floor plan room filled with plants of every make and model. France, of course, paid them no mind and instead made his way toward the person they'd spent a good portion of the morning searching for- a damn botanist.

" _Excusez-moi,_ can you help me?" He called, making the college-aged kid nearly drop the tray of inpatients he carried.

He huffed and set the tray down on a tabletop. "Suzanne didn't tell me anyone was coming up. Are you supposed to be up here, sir?"

 _What is it with these people? I just want to know the name of the plant._ " _Désolé_ , my companion is still downstairs talking up a storm with her."

"She wouldn't let you up here would she? So your friend is a distraction." He deadpanned.

"Can you help me or not?" France held out the tree branch and the botanist studied it, intrigued.

"What do you want to know about it?"

 _I want to know if it makes good tea. What the hell is it, you idiot?_ "Do you know what plant it comes from?"

The botanist snorted. "What do you think I'm here for? Olive tree. Is that all?"

France stopped paying attention after "Olive" and immediately texted the new information in the group chat.

" _Oui. Merci beaucoup_."

Spain was still talking to Suzanne when France made it back downstairs but looked all too happy to be leaving the place.

* * *

"Olive tree... is there a playing card in this box too?" China asked, inwardly smirking at the fact that he was right.

"Sadly no. Anyone got any ideas?" Canada made a show of turning the box upside down and shaking it as a demonstration.

"Something for peace?" Japan suggested, going with the obvious options first.

"Well let's think here." Germany said, pulling up a map on Google Earth. "We know each key is relatively close to each other so any state the next one could be in will most likely border Kentucky, leaving it to be either Ohio, West Virginia, Virginia, Tennessee, Missouri, Illinois, or Indiana. Since we are heading west, it's either Missouri, Tennessee or possibly even Arkansas."

"That's still a big area, West."

"Yeah but the olive branch is a big clue right? Something either peaceful or about peace in one of those three states narrows it down even more." Italy suggested, toying with the dead leaves on the branch.

"Can we think about this after breakfast?" America asked, putting on his best pouty face.

"I'm not eating eggs from McDonald's again." England immediately protested.

"Aw come on, Artie that was one time!"

"One time is all you need."

America rolled his eyes at the man's stubbornness. "Fine then, no MD. Ooh! I got an idea." He pulled into a parking lot for a 'restaurant' almost as bad as the golden arches. "Dunkin Donuts!"

* * *

Spain stared at the Boston cream-filled diabetes-in-a-nutshell with a frown. They didn't have Dunkin Donuts at his place and he'd never gotten the chance to try it whenever he'd flown across the pond. Not like he'd never eaten one before but having one fresh from the bakery?

"Why is it that when you copy food from my place it manages to add 500 calories?" France hesitantly took a bite of an éclair, shrugging noncommittally.

"Blame Iggy for it- I could have gotten you all smoothies from Micky-D's but noooo." America teased, reaching for his fourth plain glazed.

"Wha-me?!" England hadn't even touched the coffee or cake doughnut offered to him.

"If we eat enough of these, maybe we'll get so sick our bosses will send us home." China said, scraping the icing off of his with a napkin.

"I think I already am." Romano moaned, actually looking a little green after eating only half of a plain chocolate.

"I don't see what the big deal is." America said, reaching for his seventh, looking completely unfazed by the food and the looks he was receiving.

"I think this icing could pass for rubber cement." Russia just poked at the coconut, discretely snatching England's still untouched coffee.

"Whatever dudes- if you want anything that doesn't start with 'dough' and end in 'nut' you have to go buy it yourselves." Then he downed a ninth one and started driving south in hopes that the next city was in that direction. "Oh! How about a game?"

"Aren't we supposed to be figuring out where to go next?" France asked, head resting lazily on his chin.

"Yeah but we need a break every now and then right? Unless someone has an idea, that is."

"I agree with America."

"Do you even know where you're going?" They had not wasted any time in getting on the road again after America's _completely necessary_ stop for doughnuts, but they still hadn't figured out what the olive branch meant so the driving was useless.

"Nope! Though we'll need gas soon so I guess I'll just follow the highway southwest until we need to stop. Do you guys want to play the game? It's a memory challenge~"

Over the centuries Nations had to pass time somehow, and what better way to do that than something to sharpen those mental skills? It's why most of them learned an instrument or a hobby of some kind.

"Ve~ I want to play! _Fratello_ should play too."

"Che, not likely." Romano grumbled, still keeled over.

"Can we get some ice cream la-"

"Okay, okay I'll play." The others frowned at the exchange but passed it off as Italy brother nonsense.

"Great! So it's called Picnic and it's one of those games were you really have to pay attention because if you say something wrong you lose."

"Sounds like fun." Russia smiled _that_ smile and sat down heavily on the couch, nearly toppling France and China.

"So this is the simple version because the hard way is just too confusing. We pick a category like food or cities or names or something and each person goes in a circle saying 'I'm going to the picnic and I'm bringing something that starts with an A'. The next guy will say whatever the previous said and something that starts with the next letter in the alphabet- English dudes- none of that Russian stuff. You lose if you forget a letter or say the wrong one when it's your turn."

Russia's smile didn't falter in the slightest and the others seemed to find the game at least somewhat interesting.

"Okay so what category then?" France asked.

"Um… food?"

"Something harder than that if we're playing the simple version, America." England scoffed, "How about-"

"Oh we could do ourselves!" Italy said excitedly. "There's only a limited number and some letters would be really hard."

"Do they have to be real countries?" Japan asked, really hoping he was allowed to use fictional places from all the animes he knew.

"Er… I guess not. But only if there's no other option for the letter." America said, "I'll start then. I'm going to the picnic and I'm bringing…myself! America."

"Wouldn't you technically be used for U?" China asked, taking the stop in traffic as a chance to switch places with Prussia for shotgun.

"If you guys want to go by official titles then sure, People's Republic of China, but imagine saying these super long names by the time we get to Z?"

"… Never mind then." China said, shifting in the seat so his entire body fit on it, leaning against the passenger door to get a better perspective of the others. "I'm going to the picnic and I'm bringing America and… Belarus."

"Why would you bring _Belarus_ of all people?" Prussia asked while Russia tensed. "Change it to Belgium or Bulgaria or something." China just rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'm going and I'm bringing America, Belarus and… Canada." The blonde had expected to be looked over completely for China instead, so that came as a complete surprise.

All eyes turned to Spain, "Um, I'm going and I'm bringing America, Belarus, Canada, and… um…" He couldn't be out already could he? "Denmark! I'm bringing Denmark to the picnic."

"Alright," Germany was next, not really wanting to play but also not wanting to be the only one _not_ playing. "I'm bringing America, Belarus, Canada, Denmark, and England."

"I am going to _la belle pique-nique_ with _Amérique, Biélorussie, Canada, Danemark, Angleterre,_ and myself, _France._ Your turn, _Italie_."

"Ve~ I'm going to the picnic and America, Belarus, Canada, Denmark, England, France, and Germany are coming with me!"

"Do I have to go to the damn picnic?" Romano asked. "Fine, America, Belarus, Canada, Denmark, England, France, the potato bastard, and Hungary."

"You're out, Romano!" America called with a smirk. "Rules are you can't miss a letter- 'potato' starts with a P." No one said anything about France's turn.

" _Grazie_ , burger bastard, I wanted to get out." Romano leaned back and made himself comfortable, trying to get the nausea to pass.

"I'm taking America, Belarus, Canada, Denmark, myself England, the Frog, Germany, Hungary and… Iceland-"

"Aww why did you skip me?" Italy asked, looking truly hurt.

"Because you were all expecting me to say your name. Anyway, I'm taking them with me to the picnic."

"Maybe we should all have chosen unexpected names then." Japan said, "I would have said Greece-san if I had G."

"Who would want Herakles at a picnic? He'd only sleep the entire time."

"Nah, 'Mano, Greece makes epic olive-" America cut himself off, realization dawning on him. "Greece has olives."

"Is that what they meant with the clue then?" Spain asked, game forgotten.

"The Parthenon. In Nashville, Tennessee." _(1)_

"You made the _Parthenon_?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Iggy, I have replicas of a lot of things over here." America swerved to get off an exit, getting beeped at by a few drivers along the way.

"Because you can't be original, not only do you have several copies of your own places now you have ours as well?"

"You misunderstand, dear Watson, I took what you guys built and made them better." The blonde laughed at the various outcries from the Europeans, feeling right at home while going sixty on an exit ramp in middle-of-nowhere, Kentucky.

 _Tennessee… well now they_ really _get to see the heart of America._

* * *

They weren't even within the city limits yet and already America's grin had grown almost creepily big. There were a lot of things the rest of the world would say he stole, highways, the measurement system, his form of government, and the tune of Britain's National anthem are just a few. But the one thing that was purely American was country music, blues, and good ol' fashioned rock and roll. _(2)_

Dreams were made in this city, and America was reveling in the nostalgia and pride. There was just nothing like Elvis, CCR, or Lynyrd Skynyrd, ect despite the classics from the British Isles (He would never admit it but Led Zeppelin was amazing).

So even though the Parthenon technically wasn't his, the rest of the city made up for it. It took some effort finding a parking spot right next to all the other expensive buses but eventually they were all making the trek up the hill for a hopefully easy key.

It was a big white monument- how hard could it be to find one brass key in a one-room building?

… You'd be surprised.

Not only was it hot and there were tons of tourists but the temple was utterly massive. "How do we know some kid didn't see it and take it while their parents weren't looking?"

Romano and China had passed the same column three times with the same fruitless results. The former had been around long enough to see the original temple back when he and Italy were still under the care of Rome and he'd originally planned on criticizing the building for not being a sufficient replica but once he'd been standing in its shadow he'd shut up.

Even though they were on separate continents, the feeling of seeing a maintained version of building he hadn't seen in millennia was… strange to say the least. If it wasn't for the memories tied with the building he almost would have enjoyed it.

Almost. Because they had been there for over thirty minutes and twelve pairs of eyes still hadn't found the key.

"Maybe it's somewhere we can't reach." China said, glancing up at the Athena statue.

"They wouldn't dare." It was a replica, not the real thing, but still. Defiling a statue of a goddess for the sake of a game? They would never.

"Well then maybe it isn't here. I mean, the branch could have just gotten us here and it's now our job to figure out where in the city we're supposed to go." Romano really hoped that wasn't the case. They'd seen the city driving in and it would be an absolute nightmare to sift through.

"It's getting late, we should send some of the others to search other locations and just double check one more time." So that's what they did. China and Romano stayed behind while the others fanned out in pairs across the city hoping it wouldn't be too complicated or strenuous for once.

As tourists started clearing out, the building seemed to grow bigger and bigger. They could hear their shoes echoing on the floor now there were so little people.

Romano must've passed the statue at least twenty times, sparing a glance each time, but a little yellow sticky note that was not there before caught his attention. Not caring about the guards he crouched under the velvet rope and unstuck it from its place on the back of Athena's shield, staring at the numbers written on it.

"Yao I found something!" The brunette hung his head in exasperation, shoving the sticky paper at the Asian Nation.

"…Are these coordinates?"

Romano nodded sagely, already texting out an alert. "I'll buy you all hand-written gift baskets if it means this can be over faster."

A scavenger hunt. In the city of Nashville. At night. Romano would buy baskets of gold if it meant this would be over faster.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry, but if I didn't cut it off here the chapter would be too long. I got the idea from the Urban Dare challenge we've got here, running around downtown all day finding clues. I got one Russian on my traffic graphs! And one Luxembourger! Cheers!**

 **Footnotes:**

 **1\. Nashville's nickname (one of many) is called "Athens of the South", home to tons of colleges, a big epicenter of American culture, our Parthenon, and just a few miles west is Memphis- home of The King, Elvis Presley.**

 **2\. We saw the Autobahn in Germany and were like, "Must have it!" Not sure if any others use the English system anymore besides us. Greece=democracy (but Britain= oligarchy). "My country 'tis of thee" is exactly the same as "God Save the Queen" with different lyrics.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Day 4, part 1**

 **A/N: Expect late and random updates because school starts for me soon and I have two stories going at once. This chapter lacks humor. I know. There's a reason.**

* * *

Despite the fact that they'd been trained in the art of gathering information in not-so-legal ways, the American agents supposedly "keeping an eye on them" stuck out like sore thumbs. Which doesn't really make much sense if you think about it, does a 'sore thumb' really stand out that much?

They wore the suits, had the black SUVs, and of course they had sunglasses that didn't come off until the sun had completely gone down. And on top of it all, they were the ones controlling the game this time and they were enjoying every second of it.

Starting from the sticky note in the Parthenon, various Nations had been sent to six different locations throughout the city and only one group had a car- Prussia and Japan. The rest either walked or forked over the cash for a taxi.

Whichever group was closest to the newest coordinates would head to said location hoping to the deities above and below that the end was near, only to find yet another smug agent standing there with another sticky note with even more coordinates on it and they had to repeat the process once again.

Somehow, Italy and Canada paired up, which was probably the worst group possible. The former was terrified of all the people with strange accents while the latter was forgotten by everyone including his partner on occasion.

The bar they stood in front of was the next location and apparently it was so popular that there was a line out the door and down the street.

"I wish Luddy was here…" Italy pouted, inching away from the strangers and trying to channel his inner Canadian.

Canada, meanwhile, ignored the seventh time his foot had been stepped on and someone elbowed his head. "We'll only be in there for a minute- just long enough to find either the key or, God forbid, another address."

Twenty minutes later the two were handing their IDs to the bouncer and heading inside. Or at least, Italy was. An arm held Canada back and he actually had to look up at the man, which was a rarity.

"Maybe it's different in Canada but in America you have to be 21, kid." He handed the ID back, and motioned for Canada to get out of line.

Canada just stared at the man, betting a lot that he wasn't the normal bouncer for the bar, proven correct when that cocky smirk appeared as a group of people were let in without ever pulling out their wallets.

Italy never noticed Canada wasn't with him. The blonde huffed and eventually moved to the side while glaring at the 'bouncer'. "You and I both know I'm well over 21."

He nodded, superiority oozing out of his next words, "Yep, but the rest of these people don't. If I were you I'd get a new ID, _sir_."

Canada sighed, _fuck you…_ He really hoped they knew that they were playing with fire. Sure they were stuck at the bosses' bidding for now but when it was over everyone was fair game. Canada wouldn't hesitate to call in a few favors to his brother, they would pay for this.

His phone buzzed and he walked away to answer the text, hoping Italy could handle his own.

 **Alfred:** Mattie what's takin so long with the clue?  
 **You:** …  
 **Alfred:** Mattie?  
 **You:** Bouncer wouldn't let me in. So Italy went in alone  
 **Alfred:** XD that's hilarious. I thought Italy was 20 though?  
 **You:** Is he? Bouncer is an agent  
 **Alfred:** Why didn't you bring that fake id with you?  
 **You:** Shut up  
 **Alfred:** :p

Canada sighed, leaning back against the brick wall of the bar and hoping Italy would come out soon. He hadn't been caught for his age in a long, long time. It was highly embarrassing whenever someone forgot their ID in the States and weren't allowed in anywhere but Canada either always had it or skated right by behind one of the others.

Something like glass breaking inside caught his attention, followed by high-pitched pleading in Italian. A second later Italy came sprinting out the doors, not slowing down at all to grab Canada's hand and drag him along.

They didn't stop running until the bar was at least seven blocks away. Canada was panting but Italy didn't break a sweat. "What… happened?"

"I was in the bar and there was this man with this funny hat so I told him he had a funny hat because people should know that kind of stuff and he started yelling at me so I ran." Canada tried to picture the scene in his head, groaning when he realized what the 'funny hat' must've been.

"Did you at least get the new coordinates?" Italy's fear vanished and he held out a crumbled paper to the blonde with an excited smile. Canada relayed the new location and shoved his phone back in his pocket, starting to walk away.

"Hey how come you stayed outside?" Italy's question went ignored.

* * *

America and Germany were sitting comfortably in the RV, the only ones not participating actively in the search. The latter had a laptop up and was the one giving out addresses from the coordinates they collected while the former was researching…something on his own laptop. It was a rather awkward silence with just the clicking of keys and occasional background noise of a siren or two.

"Do you know the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything?" The rhythm of keys tapping went unchanged as the German promptly ignored the question.

"Dude, it's an easy answer. I know you read the book."

"Did you know humans are not the most intelligent beings on the planet?" The keys stopped for a second before resuming, refusing to acknowledge the question.

"Part of the answer to the answer to my first question makes up The Numbers, did you know? I think they did it on purpose." Ignored again.

"What would you do if I started singing?" He could tell the blonde was getting annoyed now, there was a slight tightening of his jaw that America saw all the time with the others. "You asked for it." He shrugged, pulling up the karaoke version of a song on YouTube, the synth and guitar filling up the RV.

Finally the keys slowed and America smirked. " _Hast Du etwas Zeit für mich, Dann singe ich ein Lied für Dich, Von 99 Lufballons, Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont._ " The blonde was a far cry from Nena and his accent skewed a few of the words but at least he could sing.

Germany was silent, just listening to the song until the instrumental break. "Why, out of every song you know, did you chose that one?" He would forever deny actually appreciating it, of course, but there was no one else around for now.

America shrugged. "'Cause I'm stuck in this bus for the next seven days with you guys, I don't wanna be fighting the whole time."

"You do know what the song is about, right?" Before he could answer the intermission was over and he finished the song without looking at the lyrics the rest of the time.

"You do know that I speak fluent German, right?" America returned, answering the question with a question. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you like my singing." Both went back to typing until America decided to talk again.

"As stupid of a plan as this was… do you think they have a point?"

"Who? The bosses?"

America nodded, getting up for a drink. "Yeah, I mean, look at us. We're on a race against time from one ocean to the other in a cramped recreational vehicle and we're actually getting along."

"I would not call Lexington 'getting along'." Germany noted, taking the offered beer.

"Well no…" America consented, "But still. Ten of us are running around Nashville like idiots for a rusted piece of metal and no one's picked a fight yet."

"I don't think any of us want to repeat this again, and that is enough to keep us in line."

"I think it's more than that. Bosses can't control everything we do." Germany went back to his job, and America resumed doing damage control for the viral video, almost missing the murmured '42' from the other.

* * *

England and Russia were on their way to the history museum, knowing it was bound to be closed. They were hoping they could make an exception and if not, Russia would convince them otherwise.

"Is it just me, or has that black car passed us already?" England said, staring straight ahead as he spoke.

"This city is full of government vehicles, it most likely has passed us numerous times. You should not worry about it." Russia seemed completely at ease with the situation, not complaining like the rest of them about aching feet or humid weather.

"I think I should worry very much. I never liked America's agents, always thinking they can go anywhere and do anything."

"You are complaining to the one person you should not." Russia's sickly sweet voice was laced with murderous intent and England grudgingly shut up after that.

They eventually made it to the museum to find Prussia and Japan already waiting there. "What are you two doing here? We were closer, you know."

"Apologies, Arthur-san, but we were only a block away." Japan held out the map on his phone, showing the short, three-minute walk.

"Well then-" He turned to glare at Russia, incredibly peeved. "You told me there was no one else for blocks, you wanker." The Slav just smiled and cocked his head like a puppy. "Well we're here now. Are they letting you in or is this a dead end we'll have to wait until morning for?"

Japan was about to answer when Prussia declared that the chubby night guard had returned with the keys to let them in. "I said I had a friend with a mansion full of history stuff he'd be willing to donate if we got 'exclusive access'. Awesome huh?"

" _So_ 'awesome', Gilbert. Really the most ingenious plan ever concocted." The guard unlocked the door, not having the chance to ask about the two newcomers before Prussia slammed the thing open, nearly causing the man to fall on his butt.

"Hey! At least my plan got us inside. We've only gotten three keys in three days, we need to pick up the pace so I don't have to spend another week with you losers next month. Now," They shuffled in to the main room, "I think we've got it this time, otherwise one of those prissy agents would be here by now."

* * *

"So this one time I saw this movie and they were in a museum like this- but the other was more awesome- and all the stuff came to life and started attacking people. Wouldn't that be awesome if it really happened?"

"… _Hai_ , Prussia-san. It would be 'awesome'." It wasn't that Japan didn't find America's history to be _oh so intriguing_ , but he was more focused on the key than paying attention to whatever Civil War rifle was on display. Sure, a bunch of mannequins coming to life and putting those weapons to use would be interesting, but definitely far from 'awesome', or at least Prussia's definition of it.

"Hey, we should split up! Cover more ground that way." Without waiting for a response, Prussia ran off to the Antebellum Era while Japan actually paid attention to the various crates and boxes one would hide a key. Nothing would be behind glass, it would definitely be an open-air exhibit.

To Japan, it felt like this was the 'punishment' leg of the race. Like, they just came from an amusement park, had one of the best days he'd had in a long time, and now the party came to a screeching halt. Now the bosses were getting payback. Why else would they make this key search so difficult? The third key didn't even have a date on it like the others. Japan liked his boss, he really did, but this… sucked.

It wasn't their fault they fought, it was _literally_ in their nature to clash and argue and create rifts both literally and figuratively. But Japan had been alive for many, many years and he knew how humans worked. They couldn't _not_ be in control. They couldn't _not_ be the dominant species. They thought they could control Nations, and that their efforts would have lasting effects. To their credit, some did and still do, but in this day and age everything changed too quickly for things to stick and actually change the ways of society.

So Japan would play along, it was only eleven days out of the million plus that he'd lived. He just hoped that the others, on both sides, would be as understanding.

* * *

"Ve~ Japan says we should all meet at the museum, they think the key is there." Since they were already close, the two had gone back to the RV for a break, finding that four others were already there.

Spain, who'd been sprawled out on the couch, immediately perked up. "Oh, seriously? I thought it would never end." The RV lumbered back onto the streets and a very tired America almost ran over Romano when he took a corner. They could hear his extensive vocabulary of expletives loud and clear above the rumble of the engine.

Standing impatiently on the steps were England, Japan, Russia, and Prussia. Swinging lightly in Japan's grasp was the key.

"It was in the Civil War section, by the Reconstruction exhibits." England said, shaking his head with a tired sigh. "I can't say that it isn't rather disheartening to know that they knew we'd automatically think the Parthenon over a war, and that they based this entire clue there. Are we that easy?"

"Mope later, we gotta take this pic and go. Oh and Either Japan, Russia, or China is driving once we figure out where we're going."

"Why do I have to drive?" China asked, not bothering to look at the camera as the picture was taken.

"Because if we want to make it to LA on time we can't keep stopping at night like this- we don't have the time. Day four started today at four o'clock- the time the last flight landed three days ago. Counting this key we only have four so we really need to pick up the pace and the hero can't take driving anymore."

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Canada appeared with the number four box and took the key from Japan, pausing to check if there was another date on it. A second later he sighed, holding it out to his brother. "I'm beginning to hate dates."

America took it and held it up to the light. "1904", the numbers read.

France frowned, "Am I correct in assuming you have no states or cites founded so recently?"

"I do but they're way west, the next key wouldn't be that far away."

"So if it's not a ratification date, then what is it?"

"Maybe the clue itself will help?" Japan said, motioning for Canada to reveal what it was.

"The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress."

"Well that's… dark." Romano commented, stifling a yawn.

"I think it fits America- how does that phrase go?- 'like a glove'?"

"Shut it, Russia. If anything it fits you better, commie bastard."

"Ve~ Does it have anything to do with pasta?" Italy successfully defused the situation, drawing everyone's attention back to the situation at hand.

"Dudes that could mean a lot of things. I didn't realize I'd have to know every single quote from every single dude in my history for this thing."

"Well we're not going anywhere until someone at least figures out what state it's in." China said, calling dibs on the couch.

"How 'bout I take Mattie to that bar and we can get a few drinks? I'm sure the bouncer won't mind." Canada scowled, half directed at America, and half at the stupid agent from before. It was going to be a long seven days if he kept holding that over his head.

Canada sighed, it was going to be a long seven days regardless.

* * *

 **See? There was a reason. Well for most of it. And I don't own _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy,_ "99 Luftballons", the "Night at the Museum" franchise, or The Numbers from _Lost,_** **virtual cookie if you got all those references.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Day 4, Part 2**

 **A/N: It's late, I know, but my Cardverse stories have priority. From here on out do not expect regular updates (2 week hiatus tops) because school is starting again for me and I have two stories going at once.**

* * *

"I forget how much can happen in a year." England mused, searching on America's laptop for the significance of 1904.

"So much blends together now, it's hard to distinguish years from one another." China said, cutting up one of the leftover doughnuts.

"I don't think any of us want to remember this year in particular. According to this website there were four different fires in four major cities across the globe, several uprisings, murders, and the whole mess with you two that eventually involved all of us." He gave a halfhearted glare at Russia and Japan, neither of which seemed all that offended. _(1)_

"But there was some good stuff too right?" Italy asked, crawling over to take the laptop for himself. "Ooh the Olympics were that year! That's good right? And the ice cream cone was invented~ And there was that boss America had that was actually nice."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean? Roosevelt- both of them- were awesome bosses!"

"Ve~ that's what I said, isn't it?"

"I think that's a matter of opinion, America."

"Franklin saved your asses, dude. That makes him universally awesome."

"We're not discussing Franklin. Theodore and his 'big stick' plan were a thorn in my side during and after his term ended."

" _Your_ side? _Amigo_ I'm the one who lost to him." Despite that fact, Spain didn't seem all that upset about it, unlike England.

"Well Teddy was awesome too, the man behind teddy bears has to be."

"Your president created teddy bears?" Russia asked, seeming legitimately interested.

"'Teddy' Roosevelt, Ruski. He was a big conservationist, part of the reason I have a national park bigger than France. The media went with it and now the entire world enjoys the fruits of my labor."

"I love teddy bears~" Italy said, using his brother as a makeshift one.

"Che. Unless tyranny and oppression are also tied to this guy, he's not helping us figure out the next city." Romano shoved his twin off and ignored the collective frowns from the others.

"Way to kill the mood, Romano." Prussia teased, lazily taking up the entire cabover.

The Italian shrugged. "What? In case you forgot, potato bastard, we're still in Nashville and it's eight in the morning. Am I the only one who remembers we need to get moving?"

"No, but we are supposed to cooperate and actually enjoy this. Or at least, we can tell our bosses that we enjoyed it, then if we fail they can't use it as punishment again." France said, taking one of the little doughnut pieces when China wasn't looking.

"Lovi has a point," Spain blocked a punch from Romano at the nickname, "We know this place will be west of here so we should at least get on the road so we'll be closer to wherever it is once we figure it out."

"We are making this too complicated." Germany said, just loud enough to silence everyone else. "The first hit on Google when I typed the quote is Frederick Douglass."

"Why do we keep forgetting we have internet at our fingertips?" China sighed, realizing how much time they wasted.

"Frederick Douglass was awesome too. Spoke out against injustice and racism." America supplied, silently wishing they could stop making clues about the greyer parts of his history.

"The quote is from 1857." And the smile was gone again.

"Hey Italy, does that website say where the Olympics were held in 1904?" It was obvious he knew exactly where the next city was and wanted to go anywhere but there.

Italy scrolled back up on the screen, "St. Louis. The World's Fair was there. Is there a problem?"

"St. Louis, Missouri is northwest of here, very north. A little farther away than Lexington is, where we just came from, and is the location of a Supreme Court case that may or may not have started a war."

"So what you're saying is we came all the way down south just to drive back up north?" England asked.

"Pretty much. St. Louis is a big city too, but I've got a few ideas on where this key could be." Whatever the history was America clearly didn't want to talk about it, so no one asked. "Well who wants music? I think this thing has XM so we got options."

"As long as there's no Bieber or Cyrus I'm happy." Prussia said, fiddling with the tuner for a good station after switching places with Canada.

"Be careful what you wish for, we are still in Tennessee." Canada warned, having been in the same position before with a brother all too willing to sing along to anything. Prussia, of course, ignored him.

" _-believe me just watch-"_ Prussia immediately switched the station.

"Hell no. I've heard that same damn line too many times." He received mutual nods of agreements from the others. It wasn't a bad song per say… just on the radio every five seconds.

" _-jealousy. But you'll come back each time you leave…_ " Prussia turned to the others to ask yay or nay and just kept the song when no one answered.

"So how long until we reach St. Louis?" Japan asked, hoping it wouldn't be impolite to ask for the bed in the back since it was almost midnight at his place and the lethargy of so many of his people was finally getting to him. Jet lag sucked for humans, but it never went away for Nations.

"Five hours max, dude. We'll wake you up when we get there. If anyone else wants sleep now's your chance." Japan nodded in gratitude and the ride was relatively calm after that.

* * *

"Hey, Japan. Time to get up, eh." Canada gently nudged the only other occupant of the RV awake. "We're here."

Japan slowly sat up, noticing the lack of noise. "Where is everyone else?"

Canada sighed. "I fell asleep and they left both of us behind. We're not that far from where I think they are, so come on."

* * *

"Alfred, you have the strangest monuments. Greece's Parthenon, four faces carved into the side of a mountain, giant metal bean, and now this. The handle of a shopping bag stuck into the ground. What's next? A recreation of Stonehenge? Or maybe the Brandenburg Gate?" England stared up at the massive metal structure gleaming in the sunlight, really wondering just why someone decided to build it.

"Remind me to never take you to Nebraska then… or South Dakota. No one's afraid of heights here right?"

"Wait you go inside the thing?" Romano asked, from the ground it looked like you'd be packed like sardines in there.

"You know me, everything's gotta be interactive here. Ivan you might want to stay down here though, I think you're too tall." America patted Russia on the shoulder, eyes not leaving the monument.

"What makes you think a key will be in there?" China did not seem too happy about having to go up there, nor did he know how one got up there in the first place.

"It's called the Gateway Arch, gateway to the West. In other words it's a monument to expansion and free land, the exact opposite of tyranny and oppression. But you can ask Iggy all about that one."

"Belt up, git. You proved your point long ago." _(3)_

"Unless someone else wants to, I'll go up alone and see if it's there. If it's not… we'll get to that later."

"I kinda want to see it actually." Prussia said, nodding to himself. "I'll come with you."

"We'll be back guys, hopefully the key will be easy this time."

* * *

Italy watched as Prussia and America returned empty handed. "It wasn't there?" America shook his head with a shrug.

"Worth a shot."

"So where to nex-"

"Hey where's Kiku?" France asked, craning his neck to scan the surrounding area.

America face-palmed. "We left him in the RV, dudes."

"Well I'll go back and get him, you continue on to wherever the key is, we'll catch up." China said, walking away without further discussion.

"So where else would this key be?" Germany asked.

"I think someone should go with Yao, make sure he doesn't get lost. Maybe two or three should go with him actually."

"Alfred, quit changing the subject." England said sternly.

"Whatcha talkin about, Artie? I'm not changing the subject. You know there's a great tea place around the corner, got your flag and everything hangin' outside, my treat."

"I'm flattered." The blonde deadpanned. "Either you tell us or Google tells us." He threatened, pulling out his phone.

"Who wants to see if iPhones can float? I hear the Mississippi's a great place to test that."

" _Alfred_."

America sighed, realizing nothing he said would get him out of the situation. "The Old Courthouse, right over there." He pointed at a green-domed white building right across the street. "There was a case there that the Supreme Court decided. Four years later my Civil War started."

"Does this case have anything to do with Frederick Douglass?" Russia asked, obviously enjoying how uncomfortable the superpower was.

"Shut it Ruski, you know exactly what it was about."

"Well the rest of us don't so spill it or the Internet will." Prussia said.

"Damn the Internet. It's not important who it was about. That's what the quote was for, that's all that matters. We go in, we go out, alright?" America led the way across the plaza in silence. _(4)_

* * *

"I think you are lost, Matthew." Japan said softly, not wanting to upset the blonde.

"I am not, eh." Of course Canada wasn't lost. He'd been to Missouri _tons_ of times, especially St. Louis- his only baseball team played them all the time.

"Do you know where you're going?" The question went ignored. "Maybe we should ask the others for directions." The blonde had been adamant about asking the others where they were or how to get there, he was navigating on a hunch alone. So while Canada took it in stride, Japan decided to text somebody and ask for directions. China beat him to it.

 **Yao:** Where are you two? I'm at the RV.

Japan glanced up at the street signs and inwardly shrugged.

 **You:** Ten minutes away.

He convinced Canada to turn around and head back the way they came, despite the fact that they'd been walking in circles most of the time, not that Japan minded too much.

China was waiting impatiently in the parking lot. "It's about time you got here, I've been waiting for ever."

"Sorry, Yao. But you guys left us behind in the first place." Canada said pointedly.

"Aiyah that's not the point! The others said they're at a courthouse so let's go." Canada and China walked in the front together, the latter complaining about western incompetence and the former trying to get a word in, both were ignoring Japan trailing behind.

* * *

"Why do I get the feeling we are missing something obvious?" France asked, staring up at the domed ceiling inside the courthouse.

"Until you have a more solid premonition I'm staying here. The building won't be too hard to search." England said, the others having fanned out across the bottom two floors.

"It just feels too easy."

"At least we're not having to book plane tickets to fly across continents to get to these places. It's relatively straightforward."

"That is the problem. Nashville was a nightmare, the mall was a nightmare. This city is huge and already we're in the location we're supposed to be. That's _too_ straightforward, _non_? Too easy."

"Well you'd better knock on wood, frog. We could do with a little simplicity."

" _Amigos!"_ Spain appeared on the second floor, waving them over. "You're not gonna believe this."

"So me and Lovi were just searching the rooms and look what we found." The brunette said excitedly, opening one of the courtroom doors to find Romano lounging on one of the chairs.

"Oi, _bastardos_." Romano held up something in his hand, "It was just sitting on the desk over there."

"Is that seriously it?" England asked, walking over for closer inspection. "What if it's a fake? This was way too easy."

"Would they really do that? It looks real to me." Spain left to gather everyone else.

"Would it be wishful thinking to believe they gave us a break?" Romano asked, turning the key over in his hands.

"After the hell we've gone through already, I doubt they would ever give us a break. We're not even halfway across the continent yet."

"Dudes is it really in here?" America and the others arrived, all crowding around to get a look at the stupidly easy find.

"So no one else finds this the least bit suspicious?" Germany asked, naturally being the killjoy.

"West, let's not look a gift horse in the mouth. Picture time!"

"Is China back yet with the others?"

"Yeah we're here." Canada answered, stepping forward with his phone for a camera, leaning it up against one of the chairs. No one smiled this time.

"Hey Japan I can't see you." Canada called, looking up from his phone when he got no response. "Japan?" He frowned, doing a headcount. There were only eleven people in the room, all spouting different theories.

"Problem, Mattie?" Canada double checked that they were indeed missing a personification before answering.

"Yeah… Did you see Japan come in with us? He was right behind me, I swear."

"Dude he's right-… huh." America, of course, did his own head count, naturally getting the same results. "Guys has anyone seen Japan?"

"I'll just text him, maybe he's downstairs."

"I never saw Japan come inside, just China and Canada." Spain said, a concerned expression marring his usual smile.

"Alfred, look." Canada held out his phone, the screen reading 'message send failure'. So he tried calling.

"What's going on?" England asked, which quieted the rest of the side-conversations.

"No answer. Can anyone get a hold of Japan?"

"I thought this was too easy." France had an I-told-you-so-face on.

"Look, maybe he dropped his phone and it broke or something. He knows where we are and if he doesn't show then he's probably back at the bus." America said, taking the key from Romano and heading back into the hall.

"And if he isn't there then what?" England crossed his arms, an accusatory glare sent in his ex-colony's direction.

"We go from there. He's got twenty minutes to get here, it's kinda hard to miss and we weren't parked that far away."

* * *

Japan never showed.

"What do we do now?" Italy asked, incredibly worried about his old ally.

"The city's too big to search on our own, it'll take forever." Romano said, stretching out on the courthouse steps next to his brother.

"We can't do anything without him so we're stuck here until he's back."

"You don't think something happened to him do you?" Italy suddenly panicked, coming up with increasingly worse fates for the Asian Nation.

"Nah, this is Kiku we're talkin' about. He's resourceful."

"Well we can't just sit here. How long are we supposed to wait for him before actually taking this seriously?" Prussia said, chipping rust off the key out of sheer boredom.

"He's got until midnight to make an appearance. After that we can involve the cops."

"What if whoever kidnapped him used the key as a distraction?" France asked.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a sec. No one said anything about kidnapping, French Fry." The last thing America needed was a national crisis due to a kidnapping in St. Louis of all cities.

"Think about it. The key was just sitting there on the table practically waiting for us. Is that not even a little suspicious?"

"That doesn't mean anything. Whoever it hypothetically was would never have known we left him behind in order for that to happen." England spoke up.

"How do you know that? They could have watched us leave this morning and moved the key to an easier place for a distraction. The previous locations were a mall, a theme park, a cemetery, and a museum. Doesn't a national landmark seem out of place?" France's speculation put everyone on edge. No one liked being watched without knowing.

Suddenly Italy jumped up and sprinted down the stairs. "Japan you're okay!" Italy launched himself at the man, nearly throwing both of them to the ground.

"Where were you?"

" _Gomen'nasai_. I dropped my phone down one of the sewer drains, it took longer than expected to get a replacement." Japan held up the receipt for a shiny new smart phone and continued making apologies.

"Hey un-awesome losers!" Prussia yelled, smirking at the various annoyed expressions. "Can we just retake the picture and go?"

Ten minutes later they were back in the parking lot, hoping to take advantage of getting two keys in one day.

"Didn't we park right here?" Spain asked, staring blankly at the empty parking space.

"Do you see any other massive recreational vehicles around here?" England gestured at the near empty lot, obviously lacking their current mode of transportation.

"Ve~ where did it go?"

"I found it." Russia said, staring at the bridge crossing the river.

"Where?" America asked, following his line of sight.

"Up there, driving away." Everyone watched as an RV- _their_ RV- slowly vanished from their line of sight across the Mississippi River.

"Did you guys lock the door after you left?" America asked, turning to Canada.

"Nope."

The blonde slowly nodded his head. "Well this sucks."

* * *

 **Ha, ha! Plot twist! You didn't seriously think it would be such a rigid plot did you? Apologies if it feels rushed, it felt a lot slower when I was writing it all out. I tried better humor this time, did I succeed?**

 **Footnotes:**

 **1\. Russo-Japanese War (Japan won). Fires in Toronto (Canada), Baltimore (USA), Ålesund (Norway), and one other city were devastated by fires. Uprisings in South Africa against colonialism (I think).**

 **2\. Theodore Roosevelt- US president got us back into the world and forever destroyed the stupid idea of isolationism by crushing Spain in war, slowly removing Britain from the world stage, and being the namesake of teddy bears. Franklin Delano Roosevelt (Yes, they're related)- US president elected four times, saved us from the Great Depression and involved us in WWII after Pearl Harbor. Yes, to save your asses, Europeans.**

 **3\. When we were little colonies, Britain banned Americans from settling past the Appalachians to appease the Canadians, who's land was on the other side at the time.**

 **4\. The Dred Scott case. The Supreme Court ruled that even in the North (no slavery) blacks weren't technically citizens of the US so they had no legal right to sue anyone. While it pleased the South the northerners were far from happy and that was one of the major accelerators of the war.**

 **Music:** ** _Uptown Funk-_** **Bruno Mars,** ** _Blank Space_** **\- Taylor Swift.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Day 5, Part 1**

 **A/N: Yay! This fic now has a cover! …Thanks for the review(s) guest(s). Don't ask why I italicize game names. I just do. Some deserve it.**

* * *

"All of our stuff was in there you know, we have absolutely no money, or clothes, or means of transportation."

"You don't think I know that, Artie? This all could have been avoided if we hadn't left anyone behind."

"Oh like you're one to talk."

"Enough!" They were still standing in the parking lot, at a complete loss of what to do. Germany, for one, was done listening to petty arguments. "Everyone's belongings were in the RV, Arthur. You're no worse off than the rest of us. Arguing over what would have prevented it solves nothing."

"Actually I have a theory and it involves leaving me and Matthew behind." Japan spoke up, waiting for everyone to finally pay attention to him before continuing. "Civilians have no idea what this clue hunt is about, so they would have no way of knowing the keys mean something. I agree with Francis in that whoever stole our car was also behind the key, this wasn't spur of the moment but planned."

England narrowed his eyes and turned on the smaller Nation. "Interesting theory, seems pretty convenient that you were missing during the time it was stolen."

Japan handed him the receipt for his new phone and the box it came in. "I told you I was buying a new phone, here is my proof."

"Guys, enough. We're not getting anywhere accusing each other of crap we didn't do."

"We're not getting anywhere regardless." Romano snapped.

"Well I'm vouching for Kiku here. He says he's innocent and I believe him- my country my rules."

"So when we're stuck parading around _our_ countries because we didn't make the deadline I can tell you the same thing?" Romano did _not_ want to ever repeat this, and the only protection against doing so had just driven off into the glorious sunset.

"May I continue?" Japan asked, getting slightly annoyed with being ignored and talked over so often. Germany glared at anyone who dared try to speak and motioned for Japan to carry on. "As I was saying, it was planned. Someone knew we would be here and used the opportunity of it being unlocked and unguarded to steal it. Whoever took it is either in on the hunt or knows about it from one of us."

"Didn't I just say let's not go pointing fingers at each other? Look, I'll call a taxi and get us out of here alright? We can regroup in a place that's not the middle of a parking lot." Maybe the others had noticed and chose not to say anything but they were starting to draw an unnecessary crowd with all the yelling.

"We don't have money for a taxi." Romano said. The one time, the _one_ time he leaves his wallet behind and it gets stolen. Isn't that called Murphy's Law?

"I've got a house a half hour from here with money. Since we can't book a hotel we'll just have to stay there for the night." America was a big country, he didn't have just one house. More like thirty to stay in whenever he traveled. The problem was that aside from the mansions in Virginia and New York the rest were two-bedroom accommodations, definitely not big enough to house twelve people. But they didn't need to know that yet.

The prospect of a stationary bed for the night placated them for the most part. They were stuck in a foreign city after all, at least there was a bright side.

Ten minutes later a bright yellow minivan pulled up next to them and the driver rolled down the window. "Taxi for Jones?" The driver looked relatively young, too young to be stuck in the taxi business. He wore aviator sunglasses so dark they couldn't see his eyes behind the lenses and a too-large flat cap over box-dyed blonde hair. "You know I can't fit all of you at once right?"

"I'll pay extra if you can make two trips." America offered, hoping the stash of cash at the house would cover four 30 minute drives.

The driver shrugged, "Yeah I guess. Pick who's goin' and get in." America, England, Russia, France, and both Italies ended up being the first group, after various death threats and bribes.

"He'll be back in an hour alright? Don't do anything stupid in my city." Then they were gone.

* * *

"So what's your story? I usually don't get groups like this." The driver- John Doe, apparently- glanced at Russia in the review mirror over the rim of his glasses.

"Our car was stolen." France said, miffed that all of his extra clothes were also gone. They were designer, damn it.

"All of you fit into one car? Wow, I guess the circus is in town." He laughed at his own joke.

"Hilarious." England deadpanned. "Aren't you a little young to be in this business?"

"Why, yes. Yes I am." He cracked a smile at the blonde's concerned expression. "Aw, come on. You don't have Phineas and Ferb in Britain? It was a joke, dude. I'm perfectly licensed to drive around in a minivan all day."

"Right…"

"Ve~ I think being a taxi driver is cool! You get to meet new people all day and sit in a nice comfy chair."

"Anything to get out of exercise is 'cool', _idiota_."

* * *

"You forgot to mention that this house is fit for three in the taxi." The house- townhouse really- had a small kitchen/dining room, living room, two bedrooms, and one and a half baths. On top of it being small the air hadn't been on in the month it'd been vacant so it was stuffy as hell.

"It was either this or sleeping under the overpass like a bunch of hobos. So make yourselves comfortable while I explain this to the boss." America ran upstairs while Canada rummaged through the coat closet.

"Board games anyone?" It was like Toys R Us threw up in the closet, there were board games overflowing from the shelves. Some with boxes so worn down it was impossible to tell what the original design was and some that looked fresh from the store. The collection ranged from chess to _Headbands_ , plus an entire shelf dedicated to card games and a stupid amount of decks in a variety of colors and designs.

"Did you raid the North Pole or something? I don't think I've ever seen so many games shoved into one closet." England gawked at the sheer number of boxes, wondering if shifting the stacking order would cause an avalanche of games.

"We just love board games. I think I got one we'd all enjoy." Canada slowly pulled out a thin blue box labeled _Pandemic_ and presented it to the rest of the room. "It's a world game kinda like _Risk_. Only we're working as a team to save the planet instead of against each other to conquer it."

China shrugged, "Why not?"

It took twenty-five whole minutes just to explain how to play. But once everyone picked teams and avatars they actually got to play. It was peaceful for the first five seconds.

"Aiyah, why are all of my cities the ones dying from disease?" It was true, poor China's cities were nearly completely covered in little read sickness cubes. "And why isn't anyone trying to save me?"

"We're busy cleaning up London before it can spread to the rest of Europe." France said, taking his and England's turn.

"So Europe is more important than Asia?"

"Technically Atlanta is the most important city right now…" Japan muttered, looking up when America came down the stairs finally.

"What are you guys- oh _that_ game." He snorted, disappearing again into the kitchen. "Good luck and don't let Atlanta fall." Five minutes later he returned with several steaming bowls of popcorn. "If we want to play a team building game we should get out a deck and play _Mafia_. Now _that_ builds _fantastic_ relationships."

"What's _Mafia_?" Romano asked, trying not to sound interested in the slightest.

"Wait, you guys have never played before?" At the unanimous slow head-shake, America gasped in surprise. "Dudes seriously? Where did your childhoods go?"

"Well are you going to explain what the game is or continue telling us how unimaginative the Dark Ages were?"

The blonde dug around the card shelf until pulling out a rather worn deck of Bicycle playing cards proudly proclaiming that they were made in the USA. "It's kinda like _Poker_ where you're trying out fake the other players out and bluff your way through the game but other than that it's completely different. Three cards are the special cards, generally face cards. Two of those are the mafia members and the last is the detective and the rest are just village cards. Each player is dealt one card from the deck including the three special cards and no one is supposed to know who got what. One person, usually the dealer, is the narrator and doesn't get a card. Basically each round the mafia members kill off one player- it can't be the detective- while everyone has their eyes closed except the detective, mafia members, and narrator.

"When everyone's eyes open, they vote on who they think is a mafia member and whoever they vote on is dead and out of the game. The detective can only drop hints on who it is and if the village kills him they're SOL. The game continues until either both mafia members are dead or they are the only ones left in the game. So either the village works together and wins, or is full of traitorous idiots and everyone dies."

By the time he finished explaining the previous game had been shoved to the side and the deck was shuffled and passed out among the eleven Nations. "This sounds complicated…" Italy whined, discretely checking his card and forming a complete poker face.

"It's really not once you get into the game, a very repetitive cycle. I'll be the narrator. Queen of spades will be the detective while the jacks of diamonds and hearts will be the mafia members, k? So everyone look at your cards then close your eyes except the holders of those cards." Half the Nations looked rather reluctant to give up their vision when sitting so close to the others but did it anyway.

In the end, Russia, Japan, and France became the detective and mafia members, respectively. France wasted no time before pointing to a blonde with an evil glint in his eyes. Russia watched contently as Japan silently agreed and America called for all eyes open.

"Alright." He paused, for effect of course, "Late last night a Mr. Matthew Williams was found dead in a ditch on the outskirts of Detroit with only an empty pack of gum and Monopoly money to his name."

"Wha- my currency is not Monopoly money!" Canada tossed his card into the center of the circle- the seven of diamonds- and brought his knees up to his chest to watch for the rest of the game.

"The fact that you knew I was referencing your currency proves that it is Monopoly money." America smirked when Canada had no rebuttal and continued the game. "Villagers, vote on who you think killed poor Matthew Williams." England went first, pointing at Spain without hesitation. "Hold up a finger, bro." Spain frowned at the accusation but did as told. They continued around in a circle, the majority of the votes going to Prussia, with China behind by one.

Prussia flipped his card over- the three of spades- and crossed his arms defiantly. "Suck it losers! You un-awesome villagers killed an innocent man! My awesome ghost will haunt you for all eternity now."

"In the paper this morning it was said that a man by the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt was lynched in the town square the day before and that he could be heard screeching _German Sparkle Party_ the entire time." America actually looked saddened by the fake death he's come up with off the spot, mourning the imaginary loss.

"Of course I died awesomely. Now give me your popcorn, West." The next round progressed faster, until the mafia's next victim was revealed.

"It's because I'm Sicilian isn't it, you bastards?" Romano turned over his card which was the ace of clubs, and promptly glared at the person across from him, who happened to be Germany. _(1)_

"The coroner claimed that Lovino Vargas had been dead for days before they fished him out of the harbor, the only evidence left behind was a note in someone else's handwriting thanking him for a fantastic night."

"Lovi what did you do?" Spain cried, crushing Romano in a hug. "Boss Spain will avenge you!"

"N-nothing _bastardo_! It's a d-dam game!" Romano glanced pleadingly at America to move on, which he did by calling the vote to order. Two minutes later, Italy was turning in his card with tears brimming.

"Why would I murder _fratello_?!" He cried, replacing Spain with an even tighter hug around his brother. "I think real villagers would have been smarter than you guys!"

"Er… Feliciano Vargas was found just a few hours later across town with another note in the same handwriting claiming that he knew too much." After the Italies' premature demise, the Nations left in the game were England, France, Japan, China, Germany, Spain, and Russia. When the remaining players closed their eyes Romano gave a shout of indignation upon finding out who his killers were, promptly spewing real death threats but leaving their names anonymous.

"Dear crotchety Arthur Kirkland-"

"Watch your tongue, wanker."

"-Was found in his flat, facedown in a sea of paperwork after consuming copious amounts of spiked tea in an effort to continue his workaholic tendencies."

"I highly doubt any report would divulge that information but whatever." England pouted, throwing in his jack of clubs. "I do hope that the villagers get it this time, the detective is doing a shoddy job at revealing the mafia."

"And you did so much better when you were alive." Prussia chastised. "It looks like Sherlock can be killed after all. Or was it the Doctor?"

"Sod off, git. I lasted longer than you did."

"Continuing!" America interrupted, gesturing to the various counts the Nations held up. "Artie's right, you guys are a terrible village." Russia threw in his card and the remaining players groaned. "Detective Braginsky appeared to be the sole victim of an angry mob, having been framed for the deaths of the Vargas twins. Though he died innocent of that claim the investigation uncovered a dark past for the late detective."

"You are having too much fun with this, oh Great Omniscient Narrator." France said, bemused.

"Of course I am dude! Coming up with your deaths feels like were all a part of a TV show or something."

"Says the only one who can't die." Romano deadpanned. America shrugged, moving on with the game.

When everyone opened their eyes this time America just shook his head. "Though the coroner claims he put up quite a fight, Ludwig Beilschmidt met his demise at the bottom of a stairwell in his apartment building at 0900 hours this morning. The only witness? A slate-grey cat flyin' the German national colors on its collar."

"Do you actually premeditate these scenarios or make them up as you go?" Russia asked, feeling pleased that he'd managed to screw up the game so much by targeting all the wrong people in the vote.

"Spontaneity is a gift, commie bastard. There's only three 'innocent bystanders' left, villagers! Do not go down as the village that basically committed suicide in the history books." Spain, China, Japan, and France all gave sidelong glances at each other, trying their damnedest to reach each other's minds. France voted for China, China voted for Spain, Spain voted for Japan, and Japan voted for Spain. "The murder count continues to rise in the village of San Lorenzo with the fall of Mr. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo-"

" _Por qué?!_ " Spain cried, doing a phenomenal Nicolas Cage impression by over-acting his improv death.

"The mafia has closed in on the lone survivor of the village! Mr. Yao Wang is simply no match for them and without any backup in sight he too succumbs to a watery grave. The mafia are victorious! Staking their claim over the new ghost town of San Lorenzo, daring any outsider to enter and meet their own special demise." America's bowed dramatically in his chair, grinning all the while.

There was a moment of awkward silence while the result of the game sunk in. "Well then." England mused, pursing his lips. "We truly are a sorry lot, aren't we?"

"I'll toast to that." Prussia said, holding up an imaginary beer stein and pretending to knock it with England's.

"So what now?"

* * *

If anyone would've happened to stumble upon their polyglot party, they would think they were playing human _Tetris_. Because there were only two beds, America decided that no one would get an actual bed and they would all camp on the floor in a massive nest of blankets.

The living room furniture was shoved against a wall and the hardwood floor was covered completely in blankets and pillows. Each personification tried carving out their own space but in an 11 sq-ft room, that wasn't an option. Yet somehow they made it work, packed together like sardines everyone slept relatively sound.

Until America's phone buzzed an inch from his face. Groggily sitting up, he squinted at the harsh light from the small device. It was a text message from an unknown number, a picture. Inwardly complaining about being woken up at three am, America was about to ignore it for sleep until the picture registered.

It was of him. And England. In a rather… compromising position, or at least it looked that way. Now fully awake, the blonde texted back the first thing that came to mind: _Who is this?_ The sender immediately responded, _Call me Bob._

 **You:** And who are you?  
 **Bob:** The one who will send this picture out to everyone in that house and more unless you do what I say.

 _What the hell…? Is this blackmail?_

 **You:** What makes you think I'll cooperate?  
 **Bob:** There's more than that picture on the line here, America. If you want it gone, get to this address in the next thirty minutes.

This was a trick, it had to be a trick. A ruse set up by the government, another part of the game. But even so… it was still unnerving that 'Bob' knew who he was. An address appeared on the screen and America sighed. Pride and secrets were on the line here, what other choice was there?

 **You:** Do you know who you're messing with? **  
Bob:** Of course I do. Twenty-nine minutes.

America glanced around the room, gaze finally landing on the sleeping Brit in the corner.

 **You:** England's in the picture, he's coming with me. **  
Bob:** Of course. Better get moving, not all Nations are heavy sleepers.

Sensing the end of the conversation, America tip-toed over to England and shook him awake. Almost instantly bleary emerald eyes snapped open, a hand immediately catching the blonde's wrist. America used his free hand to make a shushing gesture and pointed to the door in the kitchen that led to the garage out back. England narrowed his eyes but followed anyway, both leaving the room in almost complete silence.

"What are you doing, git?" England hissed, glancing at the over-sized garage housing four different cars all of relatively old status. America said nothing, just tossing him the phone to see for himself.

"We're going to handle this without letting the others know. Are you coming or not?" America held the door of an old Ford Explorer open and waved him inside. "We don't got all day, dude."

England glanced back at the blackmail on the phone, sighing with exasperation. "The things I let you involve me in… you'd better get us out of here fast, the engine will definitely wake the others."

"Worry about that later dude, come on. Reputations are in jeopardy." They peeled out of the garage, not bothering to waste time closing it, and sped off toward the address.

* * *

"Hey, where are you guys?" A box-blonde sat alone in his car, the sole occupant of an empty parking lot.

" _Around. Did they suspect anything?"_

"Of course not. My disguise was perfect."

" _Did you get the address?_ "

"Yeah, I'll text it to you in a sec. They gave us the all-clear for this right?"

" _Not a problem, they're completely okay with it._ "

"Phase Three tomorrow then?"

" _Tomorrow_."

The blonde smirked. "Aniki's breasts shall be mine."

* * *

 **A/N: And the mystery continues! Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Does anyone by chance know any good complete "Nations' secret compromised" fics? They are incredibly hard to come by and communities are terrible at doing their jobs.**

 **Footnotes:**

 **1\. If you haven't stumbled upon ElizabethScaffie's amazing story** ** _Strange Things Happen At Night_** **, go fricken read it because it's so fricken good! It's about the Sicilian mafia in the 70s- hence the footnote- and is definitely one of the best plots I've read on here.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Day 5, Part 2**

 **A/N: Admit it, you thought I abandoned this, didn't you? Gonna take a lot more than school to make that happen. Apologies for the rather terribly timed cliffie, I didn't do that on purpose. And apologies for the relative shortness of this chapter and any mistakes, it was a bit of a rush to get this up while I had time.**

* * *

"I've finally accepted the fact that we're not getting out of this and then you go and tell me that some lunatic under the pseudonym 'Bob' not only knows about us but has blackmail against us. I take it back, Roosevelt was a better boss than your current one."

"Hey, it was the First Lady's idea."

"She isn't the one giving you direct orders, which in turn forces the rest of us to follow those same orders. Damn globalization, I swear. And to think I actually turned town Wales' offer to sub in for me that meeting."

They were a block away from wherever the address was located and a certain blond had complained literally the entire time. To his credit it was the middle of the night after a very stressful day going from one wild goose chase to the next.

"Why would Wales offer to sub in? I thought you guys like, hated each other or something?"

"We do not! All four of us get along perfectly well, thank you very much."

"But remember Scot-" _(1)_

"That wasn't my fault. Do you know what we're supposed to do once we get there or did 'Bob' not divulge that information?"

"I'm assuming we just walk inside, the lights are on and the sign says open." Every other building on both sides of the street were closed down and locked up for the night, except this one. The glowing Golden Arches stood out proudly against the rest of the darkened environment and even from the car they could smell fryer oil.

"I'm beginning to question whether you made Bob up just to annoy me or if the Universe is suddenly making me pay karma debts all in one go."

* * *

"I vote we go after them."

"Gilbert, this isn't a democracy."

"Well it isn't a dictatorship either, West so I say we go."

"Ve~ why don't we just wait for them to come back?" Italy curled up on the couch leaning lazily over the armrest, trying to hide the fact that he was dead tired.

"What if they aren't coming back? We've already established we've lost- now it's basically a free-for-all to LA for those plane tickets." Romano said. The ten of them sat in a loose circle between the living and dining room with almost every light in the house on.

"But the tickets were in the RV weren't they? Or at least the final clue would have been to where they were?"

"It's a little thing called will-call. Our boss already paid for first class tickets halfway around the globe on an American airline no less. I, for one, am not paying out of pocket for another one." Airplanes sucked, even if you had your own private jet complete with an endless minibar and Jacuzzi. Commercial airlines were a league of their own.

"If push comes to shove I will fly out of St. Louis in business class. As Romano said, we've already confirmed that we've lost. What's keeping us here?" China said, wishing they had at least bought something edible for their overnight stay in the townhouse.

"Not much. But I'm not the only one whose ID and wallet are now missing. For one thing we can't go anywhere or do anything without them especially if, for whatever reason, we need a license or even a credit card. And on top of that, whoever took the RV now has the identities of twelve Nations, even if they're fake." Germany grumbled, crossing his arms halfway though.

"Why can't we hunt them down and make them give everything back?" Russia longed for Mr. Pipe, it always got the job done fast and simple. None of this political correctness all the kids were worried about ever got in the way.

"I think we should just wait for America and England to come back. Maybe they left because of the missing RV, eh." No one ever listened to the voice of reason, especially when said voice belonged to Canada.

"He's got three other cars and one of them is an SUV. Why don't we just drive back to St. Louis and leave? I still have my phone, I can call anyone I want."

"Guys-"

"I really don't think we should just up and leave without telling them."

"Hey, wait-"

"I agree with China, let's go."

"Dudes!" America shouted, "I haven't been _that_ terrible of a host, have I? Party guests should at least say goodbye before leaving early."

"Where the hell were you?"

England held up a silver brief case with a sour expression on his face. "Willingly delivering us to the next circle of Hell. We've got a problem and leaving now will only make it worse."

"What do you mean?" Germany asked.

England gestured for America to deliver the news, which he did. "Bob." Kinda.

"…Bob." France said slowly, and America didn't take the hint to elaborate, just tossed him the briefcase.

"Remember that one April Fool's Day like, forever ago?" Everyone instantly gave France and Spain venomous looks. Except Italy, who was trying to retell the day in vivid detail to his brother. France just shrugged and flipped open the latches on the briefcase, allowing a pile of sealed manila folders to fall to the floor.

"Wasn't one time enough, aru?" China groaned, not wanting to relive even the memory of the terrible day. Italy was at the part in his story when he tried showing Germany his picture, much to Romano's displeasure.

"Look, I know we're tired and I know this sucks but come on, guys!" America began, slamming the briefcase shut and tossing it into the other room. "We've been through worse! I mean, this isn't war, there's no paperwork, and no bosses within a ten mile/kilometer/whatever radius. Yeah we're stranded in South St. Louis with almost no money or phones, and a crazy blackmailer with a stupid name-"

"Fantastic pep talk, America."

"-But thirty years ago cell phones didn't even exist and ninety years ago no one on the planet had a lot of money anyway. We're stuck with each other next month anyway, and we can hate ourselves and point fingers then. But, for now, can't we just get along and enjoy what little vacation we have? The Midwest may be cornfields but you haven't seen everything yet! When do I ever disappoint?"

England opened his mouth to answer, along with China, Canada, Germany, and Russia. "Don't answer that, I was being rhetorical. I'm the country people go to, to live their dreams, if I was boring we definitely wouldn't be here right now. Just give me a few hours and I can get us moving again. Even though we lost, wouldn't it feel really damn good if we proved our bosses wrong and actually got along for the last few days? There's seven days left to get to LA and we're almost halfway across the continent. So what if we don't find the RV? So what if Bob screws us over? It won't last forever, and at least we'll be suffering together. So, what da'ya say?"

The gathered Nations glanced around eyeing each other, waiting to see who would speak first. "Will there be vodka?" Russia cocked his head like a dog, a curious expression on his face.

America nodded, "Absolut Vodka. And 'Mano," The Southern Italian glared at the nickname, "Cali's the world's garden. East of Eden. Some of the best tomatoes on the planet." Romano's expression just barely softened. "And Francy-Pants, we got barrel after barrel of vintage West Coast wine. China, San-Fran's callin' your name, you to Japan. And that's just Cali. We still got 2,000 miles of golden opportunity ahead of us. We're not racing against time anymore, dudes, we got all the time in the world."

America held out his hand like a little league baseball player, grinning wide with excitement. "Who's with me?"

Romano sighed, knowing he'd regret what he was about to do but doing it anyway, "For the tomatoes, _bastardo._ "

* * *

"So, instead of going to a random rinky-dink town in a state none of you have even heard of, I've got an idea."

Their caravan of antique cars made quite a show when it pulled into the gas station, drawing several pairs of eyes to the '67 Chevy, '64 Cadillac, and other classic models all appearing as though they came fresh off the assembly line. What could he say? America liked his cars.

"I thought we were driving to California?"

"We are, we are. But Cali's a long ways away from here. Trust me, you'll enjoy it. It's a full day's drive nonstop from here, which is why we're making a pit stop along the way. But if we do, we gotta make a deal first."

The other Nations exchanged wary glances, "What deal?" China asked.

"Not that kind," America assured, "We gotta make a deal that if Bob decides to remake April Fool's we just pretend it doesn't happen. For the next seven days we don't care about anything that has to do with work, politics, or anyone outside of us twelve. We're on 'holiday', deal?"

"Sounds fair." Prussia agreed with a nod of approval.

"Are you going to tell us where we're going now?" England asked.

America seemed to ignore him, not answering until he was back in his car with the engine running. " _Viva Las Vegas_ , dudes."

* * *

"You told me it would work, and it ended up doing the _exact opposite_ of what it was supposed to. What do we do now?"

"Yeah, she's right. I should've called Leon instead of teaming up with you. Ruining my hair with cheap dye…"

"Oh relax, everyone will get what they want in the end. I get my pictures, and you three get your brothers all to yourselves. When have I ever been wrong?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"If there's one thing I've learned from living with them for decades, it's that pacts never last. It just takes a little more time."

* * *

 **A/N: So, have you figured out who's who yet? A character that loves blackmail and pictures, and two others that have strange obsessions with their brothers. I didn't make any OCS. Again, do not expect the new chapter any time soon (2 month hiatus kinda just happened that way).**

 **Footnotes:**

 **1\. Last year (2014) Scotland held a referendum on whether or not they would remain a part of the United Kingdom and the vote came super close to them leaving, like only a few percentage points away from a less-than united kingdom.**

 **Happy Halloween!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Day 6**

 **A/N: What's this? An update so soon? Don't get used to it. I was feeling spontaneous, making this kinda short. And yes, all of 'day 6' is spent on the road and rather than bore you with two rather uneventful chapters, I just took little snippets from throughout the day. There are so many pop culture and retro references in this chapter, you'd better appreciate the nostalgia! Well, those of you who know what some of these things are. And a bit of fanservice to those USUK and GerIta shippers (and apparently AmeIta, even though I tried not to write it that way).**

* * *

"So raise your glass if you are wrong in all the right was, all my underdogs! We will never be, never be anything but loud and nitty, gritty, dirty, little freaks!"

"Would you _please_ stop screeching that so loud with the goddamn window rolled down?! People are staring!"

"…Come on and raise your glass! Just come on and come on and raise your glass!" Someone on the highway honked and waved at America who smiled and waved right back and continued right on with the rest of the chorus.

England and China, however, were begging the gods above and below to just make him shut up. They already tried turning off the radio, but acapella was somehow worse than with Pink singing in the background. Then the song reached the bridge, and America changed to a falsetto voice to crudely match her pitch and England banged his head against the dashboard with the logic that a headache would drown out the 'singing'. _(1)_

Thankfully, the song ended and the station went to commercial break. America didn't care though, and began humming… he didn't even know what it was. Canada sat squished in the back next to China just shaking his head. Finally, someone else had to sit through it with him (he totally did _not_ sing along whenever they were alone, mind you). He wouldn't comment on the fact that this resembled a very twisted rendition of _National Lampoon's Vacation_ , with America playing Clark, England as a grumpy version of his wife, and him and China as their two kids.

At least they weren't singing _She'll be Coming 'Round the Mountain._

When the guitar riff of the next song began, America gasped and literally bounced in his seat with excitement. "Aww I love this song!" Which was the same thing he'd said about every song for the past two and a half hours.

"Robert's got a quick hand, he'll look around the room, he won't tell you his plan. He's got a rolled cigarette hanging out his mouth, he's a cowboy kid." America changed pitches once again, and actually winked at Canada in the review mirror, who just rolled his eyes. This was one of those songs that sounded really upbeat when you heard it, until you read the lyrics. "Yeah he found a six-shooter gun in his dad's closet, in the box of fun things. I don't even know what, but he's coming for you, yeah he's coming for you."

England had been trying to enjoy the scenery along the highway, but slowly turned around when the story registered. America continued on, "All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, you'd better run, better run, outrun my gun. All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, you'd better run, better run, faster than my bullet…"

"The hell? Dare I ask what this song is about?" The blond continued onto the third verse and even China looked slightly disturbed.

When the song finished, America muted the radio and waited patiently for England's analysis. "Definitely didn't expect that did'ya?"

"You have some strange artists in your country, Alfred. A sadistic song about murdering people?"

"Uh, dude? Have you heard _Bohemian_ _Rhapsody_? 'Mama, just killed a man. Put again against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead.'? At least my song makes you think about it." _(2)_

England hmphed and waited for the next round of audio torture.

* * *

"Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase. Hakuna Matata! Ain't no passing craze. It means no worries for the rest of your days…"

Germany wished he wasn't so tall, then he wouldn't stick out as much. But then again, having a crazy Italian belting out Disney tunes- he didn't even know Disney had their own radio station- at the top of his lungs with the windows down and sunroof open, it didn't matter how tall he was in the slightest. _(3)_

"It's our problem-free philosophy! Hakuna Matata!"

But, the worst part here wasn't Italy's (rather talented) singing. No, it was _Japan_ humming along in the backseat with an actual smile on his face. It must be the mountain atmosphere, he decided. They were never this crazy when they weren't surrounded by cornfields, even if said cornfields had disappeared hours back. Their little caravan of muscle cars had passed the 'Welcome to Colorful Colorado' sign about forty-five minutes ago, something that, since it looked to be built from Lincoln Logs, was slightly concerning.

China had sent out the group text that they were stopping in Middle-of-Nowhere, Colorado, for lunch and they'd better start paying attention to the shiny green Ford truck at the head of the caravan for directions.

Don't get him wrong, Germany didn't hate this charade as much as the next Nation, but he didn't like spontaneity or unfamiliarity at all, it screwed with his OCDness. Colorado was one of those states that didn't make it past the oceans very often, and thus was one of the many states most of the world knew next to nothing about.

But apparently that didn't matter to Italy, who squealed with happiness when another Disney song he recognized began.

"7 am, the usual morning lineup: Start on the chores and sweep 'til the floor's all clean…" _(4)_

* * *

"Tonight, we are young. So let's set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun…" There was a point in one's life when they just didn't give a damn anymore about what people thought of them.

"…But our friends are back, so let's raise a toast. 'Cause I found someone to carry me home."

For the Bad Touch Trio, that was over 500 years ago.

They knew people were staring, they knew they looked like idiots, and they knew their attempt at harmony was a hilarious failure, but did they care? Fuck no.

"So if by the time the bar closes, and you feel like falling down, I'll carry you home tonight." _(5)_

* * *

"…. Can we please have the radio on?"

" _Nyet_."

"…."

"Only if we play the Sixties station."

Romano slowly turned to stare at the Russian in the driver's seat. "You like Sixties music?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No! Of course not! I love the Sixties!" Romano rushed to find the correct station, finding Frank Sinatra's _Fly Me to the Moon_ just reaching the chorus. "This is a good compromise, yeah?"

Russia smoothly changed lanes before answering, "There is no such thing as compromise in Russia." _(6)_

* * *

China inwardly sighed, he didn't even know the movie they were bound and determined to recreate. But, he did know the song. And as long as what happened in this car stayed in this car… he was perfectly okay with singing it.

"Hold me closer tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway! Lay me down in sheets of linen, you had a busy day today." England and Canada swayed to the beat, the former with the faintest smile on his face as much as he would deny it later.

"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band. Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man. Ballerina, you must've seen her dancing in the sand. And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand…" _(7)_

* * *

"Ve~ America!" Italy, Canada, and America now shared the truck after their rather uneventful lunch. The sky was slowly growing darker and they'd been content to just listen to the rumble of the engine and the occasional honk from annoyed drivers.

"Sup?" The blond called from the passenger seat, allowing Canada to drive his 'precious baby' since he'd been the main driver nearly the entire time.

"Your mountains look so pretty in the sunset, which ones are they again?" Italy had his face pressed up against the window like a little kid, staring out at the looming mountain range growing closer by the minute.

"You act like you've never seen mountains before, bro. They're the Rockies, they go all the way up to Mattie's place."

"Are we driving through them?" The brunette asked.

"'Course we are, Los Angeles is on the other side. Is there a problem or something?"

"Really? I don't usually get to explore my mountains because Switzerland says I get to close to his territory or something like that."

"Dude that sucks! Driving through the mountains is the best part of having them, especially when you come around the bends over massive valleys and the view is simply amazing." America got a wistful gleam in his eye, mountains were a way better experience than the beach, in his opinion. They never got old. "If you ever come back remind me and I'll take you to Lake Tahoe, it's really out in the sticks but totally worth the travel time. I'm sure up by Switzy's place there's lakes all over the place with the Alps in the background but still."

"Really? That would be so cool!" America smiled, so far Italy had been the only one to compliment him on anything, everyone else had either not said anything or complained about the traffic, reception, or the many trials and tribulations they endured. It was a refreshing change, and maybe they were starting to get it, why the bosses sent them on this trip. Maybe it would actually make a difference.

"Hey bro," Canada glanced over to see a smirk on America's face, "Tell everybody I'm on my way, new friends and new places to see." Canada couldn't hide his smile, of course he recognized the song immediately, it was from one of their favorite movies. "With blue skies ahead, yes I'm on my way, and there's nowhere else that I'd rather be." America nudged his arm halfway through the verse and he rolled his eyes, picking up where the other left off.

"Tell everybody I'm on my way, and I'm loving every step I take. With the sun beatin' down, yes I'm on my way, and I can't keep this smile off my face." Italy looked slightly lost in the backseat but listened to the twins attentively. America began lightly beating the dashboard for tempo, egging Canada on. "'Cause there's nothing like seein' each other again, no matter what the distance between. And the stories that we tell will make you smile, oh it really lifts my heart…" _(8)_

Italy watched the twins go back and forth with the song, eventually humming along when the chorus returned. This was nice, he decided, if only everyone could get along like they could. Then his part of the plan would actually be fulfilled. And if that happened, he'd be the happiest Nation on the planet.

* * *

 **A/N: FLUFF! It can be a beautiful thing. So this has basically nothing to offer the plot, other than getting them from St. Louis, Missouri to Denver, Colorado (which is a big distance to cover), I just wanted a massive fluff chapter and I hope this doesn't disappoint.**

 **Footnotes (I don't own any of the songs below):**

 **1\. Pink's** ** _Raise Your Glass_**

 **2\. Foster the People's** ** _Pumped up Kicks._** **Queen is British.**

 **3.** ** _Hakuna Matata_** **, from Disney's** ** _The Lion King._**

 **4.** ** _When Will my Life Begin,_** **from Disney's** ** _Tangled_**

 **5\. Fun's** ** _We Are Young_**

 **6\. Frank Sinatra was born in New Jersey to Italian parents, and his version of** ** _Fly Me to the Moon,_** **gained so much popularity because of the Space Race. And there is no Russian word for Compromise.**

 **7\. Sir Elton John's** ** _Tiny Dancer_** **is iconic for its inclusion in** ** _Almost Famous_** **, where a bunch of people on a road trip in an old metal bus randomly bust out with this song on karaoke. I've been waiting so long to include this scene.**

 **8.** ** _On my Way_** **, from Disney's** ** _Brother Bear_** **. If you don't have a clue what it is (watch it!) it's kind of a coming of age story about family, set up in Alaska (or close to it) with a really good soundtrack.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Day 7, Vegas Part I**

 **A/N: Err, hey guys. Um, yeah. It's been three months. But I have a valid excuse, I promise! This chapter was total crap the six times I started it. I'm hoping this doesn't make you cringe, because it made me smile a few times. I can't promise I'll have 14 up any time soon, so hopefully this mini-arc is worth the hiatuses.**

* * *

"I don't know how you're gonna get out of this one, bro."

"Shut up, I'm thinking. There's a way out, I just have to find it." Canada furrowed his brows in concentration, going over the problem for the fourth time in his head.

America _tsked_ , "I'm tellin' ya Mattie, just cut your losses and accept defeat."

"Says the Nation that adamantly declares he's never lost before."

The southern Nation shrugged, "This isn't about me right now, this is about you."

"Well what do I do?! He's got me cornered. If I go on the left he wins on the right, and if I go on the right, he wins on the left."

"Go in the middle." Canada frowned, glaring at his brother.

"And what will that do? Then he can go on either side."

"Exactly. You charge right down the middle like Poland and you win out of sheer audacity." _(1)_

"But-"

"Just do it, Mattie."

Canada sighed and hung his head in defeat, dropping the little yellow token into the middle slot. Russia smiled brightly, moving to drop a red token down the left slot.

Suddenly the car lurched to the left, followed by the angry blaring of horns, and the game careened to the floor of the car. "That's right asshole! Stay in your lane!"

Russia's gaze fell to the ruined _Connect Four_ game spilled out all over the beige carpet. "Fredka…"

"See Mattie? Now no one wins!"

Canada started to protest, but was overshadowed by Russia, "I'll be sure to tell Vietnam that, Fredka."

"Come on dude, that's completely different."

"How about we try your luck in a game you can't cheat at?"

"My country is full of terrible drivers! And so is yours Mr. Dash Cams. It just so happened that the silver Prius next to us decided to change lanes at the exact moment you were about to win."

"Dashboard cameras prevent cheating."

"No, dash cams make very funny YouTube compilations. Don't think I didn't see that one with bathtub guy. Or the tank running a red light. You know, your people are terrible at stopping on time? The number of fender benders I see…."

"You still cheated. And now you are avoiding the conversation by insulting a nation that is twice your size."

"You would know that, wouldn't you Commie Bastard? Creepy as-"

"Alfred! You know he's talking about geography." Canada reprimanded, not wanting to get involved in _that_ conversation.

"Who said I was talking about geography, Matvey?" Russia asked innocently, head tilted like a dog's.

Canada groaned as the shouting match continued. Thank God Prussia was three cars back.

* * *

"Welcome to Vegas, bitches! My name is The US of Awesome and I'll be your personal tour guide for today. On your left coming up is the 'Welcome to _Fabulous_ Las Vegas, Nevada' sign. Famous around the world, the first piece of the city that's renowned for excessive neon lighting!" America narrated through a conference call to the other three cars.

There were many places in the world with better casinos and far better scenery, but Las Vegas was Las Vegas. And so no one felt like a traitor to their country when they subtly glanced out the window at the infamous hotels they'd pass on the strip. The same hotels they'd hopefully be winning hard-earned American dollars in.

"And coming up on your left is the Mandalay Bay and the Four Seasons on your right. Feel free to gamble away what little money you have on you to feed my awesome economy. Oh! And here comes the Luxor… you know the big light on top used to be a lot brighter, could see it for miles. I heard you could see it from space but whatever….

"On our left comes The Excalibur, followed by Tropicana on the right and then one of my personal favorites- New York, New York…" America listed off random facts and figures about the older casinos to anyone who would listen until he pulled into the parking lot of the MGM Grand. "This one's ours for tonight. Within walking distance of everything."

" _I feel like reenacting Ocean's Eleven. Everyone but England'll have a part!_ " Prussia cackled over the phone.

" _Git! If anyone is breaking into a high security hotel it's_ me."

" _Bond movies only go so far,_ Angleterre _. You only produce two genres of movies and you somehow are simply tragic at both. That takes_ talent." France chimed in.

"Guys, I know we love arguing, but we're all less than twenty feet from each other, and we're getting stares." The shouting stopped abruptly, and America grinned cheekily at them. "Shall we?" He gestured to the extravagant front doors and headed inside without waiting for them to follow.

* * *

"You know, we deserve this." Spain said, taking in the beautiful room he shared with France overlooking the rest of the strip. The silhouette of New York- New York not yet lit up for the night life, front and center.

"Do we now?" France asked, though he thoroughly agreed with him.

Spain nodded, "Yeah, we do. It's like a big siesta, and this is the best part of the dream." The brunet flopped down on the fluffy white comforter and stared up at the equally intricate ceiling. "Definitely the best part of the dream. _Alfredo_ is bad at many things, but luxury was always one thing he got right."

France chuckled, mumbling something about capitalism. "I think you're right about the dream part, _mon ami_. The next stop is Los Angeles… City of Angels. I don't think I want it to end so soon."

Spain grinned, "Then what do you say to us spending a little extra on a nice new outfit to take the city in? If this is a dream, I'm making the most of it."

The blond's eyes lit up in excitement, " _Oui_."

* * *

Las Vegas brought new meaning to the term 'night owl'. The signs and decals that looked dull and lifeless while the sun made its rounds now came alive with energy, literally and figuratively. The streets flooded with sleek cars and limousines, people in hundreds of dollars' worth of clothing slowly made their way into the casinos, and the money began flowing.

The Nations had set themselves no rules, other than to "not f up my city", and they certainly took advantage of it the second the orange sun disappeared beyond the desert horizon. Each went off in pairs or trios to do their own thing, no one staying at the MGM for long.

"Hey 'Mano! Li'l Italy." America had to run to catch up to them, smoothing down his new black blazer once he got there. "I gotta show you guys something."

Romano, dressed in dark skinny jeans, and a silky maroon dress shirt, had no intentions of sticking by _Alfred_ of all people tonight of all nights. Italy, on the other hand, who wore an outfit mirroring his brother's with a green shirt, agreed immediately.

"Great, let's go then. Trust me, you'll enjoy it." They set out on the streets, the dry desert air blowing softly around them. Fifteen minutes later, America abruptly turned around to face them. "K, so I know this isn't exactly a new hotel or anything, but The Bellagio is my favorite out of the entire strip. And," He glanced at the fountains going through the last steps of the current routine, "this is why."

Italy had a bounce in his step as they stood on the viewing deck, the lights dimming for a moment. In unison, the water started and then began a very familiar song. "Oooh! I love this song!" Italy cheered, preparing to sing along.

Romano suppressed a smile, "' _Time to Say Goodbye'_? A bit cliché, Burger Bastard."

" _Quando sono sola sogno all'orizzonte e mancan le parole_ …" Andrea Bocelli's voice began, along with Veneziano's.

America held up a hand, "Just wait, 'Mano." They got through the first verse, Romano still waiting for whatever was supposed to happen. When the lyrics stayed in Italian, Romano's eyes went to the blond.

" _Con te Partirò?_ " America nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

"I love the English version, but this one's the original." They watched the fountains rocket upward on a crescendo, then gracefully swing back into rhythm.

"How did you know this would be playing tonight?" Not that he avidly studied Las Vegas casinos, but the most expensive hotel on the strip had plenty of publicity when it first opened, especially the musical fountain.

"I may have called in a special request." Romano's eyes widened a fraction, "I figured you guys would enjoy it, and it wasn't too hard to make the call. Everyone's gonna have a good time tonight, even you, Mr. Grumpy Pants."

"Oi-"

"Just shut up and enjoy the music."

* * *

In two hours of sitting in the Hard Rock, England had downed six different strangely colored drinks, Russia, eight shots of vodka, and China, still nursing his first.

England should have stopped on his second. "Ooh! They have karaoke! I tried it once at Japan's place…" he slurred. Russia arched an eyebrow, still completely and utterly sober, while China made a beeline for the front doors.

"I did not know you could sing, Arthur."

The Englishman glared, "Of course I can sing! The greatest musicians on earth come from my place." He boasted.

Russia leaned forward, "Prove it."

England completely missed the obvious trap, and happily stumbled over to the stage. Russia pulled out a replacement cell phone and got the camera ready. "Shame Yao will be missing this…"

From his position at the bar, he couldn't hear the song request England made, but recognized the chords immediately once it started. _Oh my…. You have really outdone yourself this time, Angliya._

He stood front and center on the stage, gaining the entire room's attention. In that position, Russia could absolutely believe he used to be all over the punk phase.

"Love is like a bomb baby c'mon get it on, livin' like a lover with a radar phone. Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp, demolition woman, can I be your man?"

The crowd immediately started cheering. _Huh, I guess he can sing._ England launched into the second verse, dancing along to the beat. _Francis would kill to see this._ He paused the video to send a quick message to the Frenchman.

 **You:** Arthur is performing karaoke at the Hard Rock.

France responded almost immediately.

 **Napoleon:** Vraiment? I'm on my way.

Russia smiled, turning the video back on just in time for the chorus.

"Pour some sugar on me! Ooh in the name of love, pour some sugar on me. C'mon fire me up. Pour your sugar on me, oh I can't get enough. I'm hot, sticky sweet, from my head to my feet, yeah." He winked, literally _winked_ at some random woman with a martini in her hand. Then got the finger from the man standing next to her.

France burst through the doors, Spain close behind. " _Mon dieu…._ " He said upon reaching the bar Russia still occupied.

"Da, I know." Russia said quietly, so as to not get picked up by the video.

"Pour some sugar on me! Ooh in the name of love, pour some sugar on me. C'mon fire me up. Pour your sugar on me, oh I can't get enough. I'm hot, sticky sweet, from my head to my feet, yeah…" England dropped to his knees on the stage floor, completely in the moment.

France studied the situation, "I'm going to suggest a song to the DJ."

All too soon, Def Leppard's greatest track ended, and England sat up, relishing in the attention. Russia honestly couldn't tell he was still drunk off his ass. The gathered drunk Americans loved it, egging on an encore to which England was all too eager to supply.

The next song started before he had the chance to pick it, and Russia's smile widened. _Good suggestion, Francis._ England seemed to think the same, along with the crowd, and he readjusted the mic in his other hand, grabbing for the mic stand off to the side to lean on. In the time before the lyrics started, England made a variety of dares and threats to anyone lucid enough to pay attention.

"Load up on guns, bring your friends. It's fun to lose and to pretend. She's over bored and self-assured. Oh no, I know a dirty word. Hello, hello, hello, how low…" France jogged back to the bar and ordered a drink, watching the stage with eager eyes.

"With the lights out, it's less dangerous. Here we are now, entertain us. I feel stupid and contagious. Here we are now, entertain us…"

"Holy shit…" America randomly appeared beside them, gawking at the stage. "Dude…. If you got him to do this song, make him to _Wrecking Ball_. Or _Party in the USA._ " _(2)_

"Those are two terrible songs."

"Exactly." Russia nodded, then waved France over and repeated the suggestion. The blond disappeared behind the stage once again as soon as the last verse started.

"How's that you Russian bastard? Told'ya I could sing!" England cried from the stage, earning cheers of approval. "I can sing _anything_."

France reappeared once again, "Be careful what you with for, _Angleterre_."

 _Wrecking Ball_ blared through the speakers, but England didn't back down. "I'll show you, Francy-Pants!" The crowd in the bar had tripled in size by this point, drinks and cell phones flying all over the place.

"We clawed, we chained our hearts in vain. We jumped, never asking why." He received a roar of approval at a surprisingly good falsetto, "We kissed, I fell under your spell. A love no one could deny. Don't you ever say I just walked away, I will always want you. I can't live a lie, running for my life, I will always want you."

He dropped to the floor once again, "I came in like a wrecking ball! I never hit so hard in love. All I wanted was to break you walls. All you ever did was wreck me. Yeah, you, you wreck me…"

"I think this is officially the best night of the year. You're getting this on camera right, Ruski?"

"Da, of course. I will email it out to everyone once we all get back to our homes."

"He'll hate you so much."

Russia shrugged, "This is very much worth it."

America could only agree, wondering if everyone else's nights were going as fan-fricken-tastic as his was.

* * *

 **A/N: I never thought I would make such references in my writing before, but it just kinda happened that way so yep (blame the golden opportunity for another Russia-America spat). It was unintentional, but I'm not entirely against France/Spain, not that I've ever read it before. What do you think? If I wanted to, I probably could make a Hetalia version of _Ocean's Eleven…_ What do you think about that, once this is over?**

 **Footnotes:**

 **1.** **1\. Don't quote me on this, but the Polish military in WWII won a handful of battles here and there before Germany finally subdued them by suicidal battle tactics no one else would dare to use. What you do when you've got nothing left to lose, I guess.**

 **2.** **2\. Songs:Andrea Bocelli (Italian)-** ** _Con te Partirò._** **Def Leppard (English)- _Pour Some Sugar on Me._ Nirvana (American)- _Smells Like Teen Spirit._ Miley Cyrus (I wish she wasn't American)- _Wrecking Ball_.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Day 7, Vegas Part 2**

 **A/N: Life… sucks sometimes. It comes out of nowhere and throws a literal dump full of deadlines and drama on you and all of a sudden it's been three months since you've updated your only ongoing story. I haven't been completely idle though! The last chapter to this has been written for** ** _ages_** **, I've just been trying to bridge the gap. And, to any faithful followers, a Cardverse prequel is on the way, more details at the end of this chapter. Anyway two or three more chapters to go and then we're done!**

* * *

So tell me again, Mr. Bellshmit-"

"It's _Beil_ s _chmidt_! Do not slander my name, you unawesome loser."

The cop sighed, "Mr. Beilshmit, what compelled you to run through the city—injuring several civilians by the way—and go swimming in the Bellagio fountain?"

Gilbert got as close to the bars of the holding cell as possible, glaring at the cop on the other side. "It was all Lizzie's fault, you hear me?! She's behind the whole thing!"

The cop shook his head and began to walk away, muttering about crazy tourists.

"I've been framed! Ask any of those other unawesome losers that came with me, they'll tell you the truth."

The door slammed shut at the end of the hall, leaving Gilbert gripping the cell bars uselessly in the silence. " _Verdammt…"_

* * *

~3 hours earlier~

Las Vegas, Nevada. Sin City. This was the place people ran to, to get drunk, lose their live savings, and get married to some random stranger all in a single night. The one city to cut loose, no holds barred, and then regret it ten years later.

If Stick-up-his-ass England could do it, and Romano actually cracked a smile, then why the hell was Germany moping by the slot machines of Random Casino #4?

Prussia materialized beside his brother and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "West, West, West…" He _tsked_. "How many hundreds of years have I been your big _bruder_ and I'm still teaching you things?" Prussia shook his head, snow white bangs falling in his eyes. "You see, this is called a casino. And in a casino, you take your coins or money here," handing him a bag of quarters, "and you put them in here," he tapped the glossy slot machine affectionately. "And then you win on your last quarter and get thrown out for doing a totally _awesome_ victory dance." He smirked cheekily, "I recommend _German Sparkle Party._ "

Throughout his brother's entire explanation, Germany had on a blank expression, not fazed in the slightest. It wasn't Prussia's fault per say… but casinos just weren't his style. Yes, the gesture by America was nice and thoughtful and everyone else was enjoying themselves and he wasn't about to tell the man he wasn't enjoying himself because that would be incredibly rude and-

"You look like someone just ran over Aster." Prussia deadpanned, crouching down to eyelevel with his hands on his knees. "Seriously West, is there an actual stick up your ass this time? I can call Specs and get that taken care of you know."

Germany stood and tried for a sincere smile, "Why don't you go find Francis and Antonio? I'm sure you'd much rather be with them than me."

The albino simply arched an eyebrow, "What did I just say about being your big _bruder_? That means I read you like you read those magazines under your bed." Germany scowled and looked slightly disgruntled, and Prussia grinned. Finally, a reaction! "So, you're going to tell me what would make tonight the most awesome night in your life and _verdammt_ if I'm not going to do it." He had his hands on his hips now, one jutted off to the side like a disapproving mother.

Germany sighed, now he would ruin both their nights if he didn't think of a buyable idea for both of them. Really, he should be thanking whatever saint made his brother decide to care about his wellbeing over the multitude of shiny things he knew Prussia wanted to take all for himself.

"Well poker at the MGM…."

And that was that.

Prussia literally dragged him out of the casino spouting random cheating strategies they could use with the widest grin on his face Germany had seen in a long time. Seeing his _bruder_ happy made him happy, as cheesy as it sounded.

A block away from their hotel, Prussia suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, causing Germany to bump right into him.

"West, is that what I think it is?"

Germany followed his line of sight and his jaw dropped.

There, parked in the side-lot between two casinos, was a beat-up, flat-tired, mud-covered Class A recreational vehicle.

 _Their_ beat-up, flat-tired, mud-covered Class A recreational vehicle.

* * *

After England had thoroughly embarrassed himself and forever made a mark on history onstage, France had carted his piss-drunk arse back to the hotel and they hadn't seen either of them since.

America and Russia were enjoying themselves in the wake of England's drag queen performance, committing the entire thing to memory for those perfect "remember that one time…" moments that were bound to come.

Getting up for another round of vodka, Russia made his way to the bar, a sweet and totally not intimidating smile directed at the nervous bartender.

He glanced over at one of the patrons hunched over, nursing what looked like a gin and tonic. The man looked relatively young, too young to be sitting at a Las Vegas bar. He wore aviator sunglasses so dark they couldn't see his eyes behind the lenses and a too-large flat cap over box-dyed blonde hair. _(1)_

" _Privyet,_ Yong Soo. What are you doing so far from home?" Russia didn't even turn to face him, watching the bartender the entire time.

He saw South Korea flinch out of the corner of his eye, "I can go wherever I want, _Ivan._ And I want to be here."

Russia nodded slowly, "So that want has absolutely nothing to do with our missing car? Or your new job as an American taxi driver?"

Korea set his sunglasses on top of his hat, "Maybe, but if it did, I'd say seeing you guys' expressions that moment was the highlight of the decade."

Russia sipped his vodka, a thoughtful expression on his face, "So you are in this city to gloat."

Korea stood, tipping his hat to the significantly taller Russian, "I'm in this city to have fun." And then he left, violet eyes watching his every move.

* * *

Prussia had only taken a second to gape before sprinting across the street in a mad dash to the bus he never thought he'd see again. Germany stayed on the other side, deciding jaywalking in Vegas was not a good idea.

The albino wrenched the door open with surprised ease, finding it unlocked, and nearly tripped up the stairs in an effort to clamber inside. It was exactly as they had left it back in St. Louis.

Clue boxes sat on the table, note sheets were strewn about on the floor, and all their luggage and personal belongings were tossed around but still accounted for by a quick glance.

"Wha…?"

The _click_ of a camera from the driver's seat made him snap his head to the side so fast an audible _crack_ was heard. There, in the driver and passenger seats sat two women, one with a camera the other a blank expression.

" _Hungary?!_ " It took half a second to recognize the other woman, and he backpedaled immediately, "and _Belarus?!_ " He looked between the two, making sure they were really there. "What _die Hölle_ are you two doing here?"

Hungary silently took another picture of the still gaping Prussia. "About time you found us, Gilbert, I was getting bored."

"Wha- _bored_?" He threw his hands into the air, smacking the ceiling in the process, " _Vati_ , the world has finally gone insane."

Hungary laughed, "The world's been insane since long before any of us existed, Gil."

He dragged a hand down his face, "Why are you here, Hungary? And with _Belarus_ of all people?" In a flash one of Natalia's knives was embedded in the wood finish behind his head, nicking his ear in the process.

"I'm here for Vanya, _Prusija._ I don't care what happens to anyone else," She hissed, another knife materializing between her fingers aimed directly at him this time.

Prussia immediately moved to shield himself, "Not the vital regions!" He would later deny that it came out as a squeak to anyone who asked.

"Nat…" Hungary chided, and Belarus slowly lowered the knife. Hungary's wide green eyes glittered with mischief. "I just got that whole thing on video!" She cheered, "Thank you for your contribution, Gil."

Prussia blanched, "Video? What-" Then something clicked. Prussia paled even further as a tiny speaker panel above the cabin slid to the side, revealing a camera lens and a blinking red dot above it.

"Uploads directly to my hard drive back home." Hungary said, "Don't you just love the technology of today, Gil? Everyone's so interconnected!"

Prussia blinked up at the camera, memories of recent, some rather stupid events flashing by. At least there weren't any cameras in America's cars. Because there was some very embar-

"I have them all over this thing. And in Alfred's cars too." Her eyes narrowed deviously. "You have quite the singing voice, Gil."

Oh _God…._ "This was all a setup, wasn't it?" He accused, "You planned this whole thing out just for shits and giggles didn't you?"

Hungary held up her hands in mock surrender, one holding a small black remote, "The First Lady _did_ come up with the idea...after I sent her a very nice email after the last world meeting. Let me tell you, the woman is a _genius_. It amazes me how America has yet to have a woman president."

Oh Prussia was _livid_. But he kept a lid on it, for now, for the sake of getting some damn answers. "Why steal our RV then? Made it more complicated on yourself, didn't you?"

She rolled her eyes, "Don't you know anything about reality TV? The people love _drama_ , Gil." She pursed her lips, "And a change of scenery," she amended. "Let me tell you, when this gets edited and sent out-"

"It wasn't live?" There might still be a chance. A small one, but still a chance.

Hungary laughed, "Of course not! Our bosses are very busy keeping us alive and well, Gil. They don't have time for unedited garbage, much less live unedited garbage."

"So the remote in your hand, that controls the cameras?" Prussia asked, taking a step forward.

Green eyes glittered challengingly, "Why yes it does. Do you want it, Gilbert?" She waved it enticingly.

Red eyes narrowed menacingly, "Hand it over."

She grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Come and get it then!" In a flash she was out the driver's side door, slamming it shut.

Belarus was on him in a flash, knives at the ready just daring him to try it. He growled and sprinted out the side door after the female Nation. "Elisaveta!"

* * *

Germany watched Hungary disappear down the street, cackling like a maniac. He then watched his seething brother give chase, shouting threats at her in English, German, and Hungarian.

He just shook his head. _Only you, Bruder. Only you._

* * *

Prussia raced through the crowds of tourists and locals alike, bumping into several people and knocking down a few in the process. Not pausing to even apologize, Prussia left a trail of angry humans shouting profanities at him.

But he didn't care. He had to get that remote. He _had_ to. And even though it was obvious Hungary was baiting him, he didn't care. Bait or not, that remote was the key to not having an eternity of blackmail at her and everyone else's beck and call.

"Elisaveta!" How the hell was she so fricken fast? She was definitely _not_ this fast when they raced as children. And he definitely was _not_ just getting old and out of shape. Prussia was too awesome to get old and out of shape.

They raced all the way past the MGM down the strip. As Hungary sprinted past another group of tourists, a familiar indignant yell rose above the others, followed by a string of scandalous Italian curses.

The Italies then noticed Prussia trailing behind and berated him with questions.

"Was that Miss Hungary?"

"What the _fuck_ is going on Albino Bastard?"

"Why do you look like one of _fratello's_ tomatoes?"

Prussia ignored all of them in favor of pouring on the speed.

He saw Hungary's brunette head finally stop a few feet in front of the low railing of the Bellagio fountains and inwardly cheered, _I've got you._

All too quickly he caught up with her and she moved to meet him head on, only to balk at the last second and dive out of the way, leaving Prussia absolutely _zero_ time to slow down before…

"Scheisse!" He tumbled head over heels into the shallow water below, Hungary hysterically laughing above him.

She waggled the remote again tauntingly, "Maybe next time, Gil. Have a nice swim!"

* * *

~Present~

Prussia pouted, still soaking wet, in his holding cell. _That damn Hungary will pay…_

The light thud of dress shoes approaching from the hallway made him pick his head up in hopes that someone came to bail him out.

"Oh you unawesome _loser_." He groaned, seeing the familiar taxi driver standing before him with a grin, hat and glasses gone.

"I think I win this one actually, Gilbert. Which makes you the 'unawesome loser'." South Korea grinned.

He shook his head, completely at a loss, "Why are you even helping them?"

South Korea shrugged, "I get to spy on Aniki, race across the United States, and the amazing opportunity to make the rest of you look like complete idiots."

Prussia leveled him with a disapproving look, "You're a creepy pervert, you know that? Coming from the best friend of the nation of creepy perverts."

"I _invented_ creepy perverts." South Korea glanced down the hallway and clicked his tongue, "I've got to go. The others are coming." He gave Prussia a onceover, "You know, Bellagio looks good on you."

Prussia bolted to his feet as he disappeared around the corner, "Get the fuck back here!"

"Dude who are you yelling at?" America arched an eyebrow, coming up to the bars of the cell.

"Your creepy fanboy that's who." He snapped. "Now get me out of here!" America waved a guard over who rolled his eyes but unlocked the cell. "Did you know about this?"

America looked around, waiting for him to elaborate, "Know about what?"

"The fricken _Big Brother_ reenactment we're all unwillingly a part of!"

Blue eyes lit up, "Dude we're on reality TV? That's so cool!"

Prussia blanched, not expecting that response, and just headed out to the lobby, completely done with the day.

America caught up to him, "Though I think that if this was reality TV, it would be more like _Amazing Race_ , don't you think?"

Prussia slammed the door behind him, not dignifying that with a response. If this really was Hungary's plot to make them all look like idiots caught on camera, then it was best to go see the game through to the end.

He set his jaw, red eyes filled with determination.

To Los Angeles it was.

* * *

 **1\. Almost the exact sentence to describe South Korea from chapter ten.**

 **A/N: It will** ** _not_** **be three months for another update- that I can guarantee, because graduation is in one month and then I'm freeeeeee! Dobby is freeeeee! And since the updates will be coming faster, I can announce a new story—the Cardverse prequel! So here's the summary:**

 **"You don't know? I am the last of my people who annihilated each other over that damn clock. Why wouldn't I want their offspring to do it again?" What does it take to survive civil war when two kingdoms become four? Follows Gilbert and Peter in a prequel to Royal Flush during the second split of Cards.**

 **First chapter comes out in July! Review? Or at least a comment on my terrible updating schedule?**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Day 8, Los Angeles**

 **A/N: So… I have valid reasoning for nearly abandoning this, and that is the start of my own original series finally getting off the ground. Unfortunately for Race, that took precedence over fanfiction. I hadn't planned on taking like, four months to update this but since it happened, the prequel mentioned before is also on hiatus (thankfully unposted). No promises on the epilogue any time soon, not making that mistake again. Enjoy! (If you're still even interested, that is) This one's massive. Apologies for grammar/spelling errors, this was a bit of a rush editing-wise.**

* * *

Prussia kicked the door of his hotel room open, Germany trailing with a defeated look behind him. _"Bruder_ we have to pay for that replacement…"

Prussia wheeled on him, "Do I look like I care?" His soggy hair flopped in his face, ruining what was supposed to be a livid scowl. "We're leaving! Elisaveta's already on her way to Los Angeles and I'm not giving her any more time to get away than she already has."

Germany sighed, "I think we can talk about this like civilized people, _bruder._ Elisaveta is not unreasonable."

"She has cameras everywhere!" He shrieked. "And you know how she is with privacy." He growled, tearing apart the hotel room in search of scattered belongings, "If you so much as _sneeze_ the wrong way, she got it. Those hours we spent looking like complete _dummkopfs_ when we couldn't figure out those clue answers? She got it. When you tripped over Romano and pulled Feli's curl? She got that too."

Germany flushed, preferring to not relive that experience, much less let the whole world see it. It wasn't his fault Russia was a maniac on the road, nor was it his fault those stupid curls existed in the first place. But it _was_ his fault Feliciano turned into one of his brother's tomatoes and led to an awkward RV ride right off the bat. Romano was seething for _hours_ and the farthest away he could get was less than twenty feet. It didn't help that France was hysterically laughing the entire time and refused to tell him why. He glanced over at his frenzied brother, shoving hotel toiletries into the pockets of his bag, and grudgingly agreed something had to be done. And whether he agreed or not, the others would certainly be on board with revenge of the highest order.

Prussia was out the door and flying down the hall by the time he'd made up his mind. Germany shook his head and began meticulously folding and rolling his own meager belongings. Race or no, there was always time for wrinkle-free laundry.

* * *

"…And now she's probably halfway to the city already so we need to leave immediately."

Russia didn't quite know how to feel about this turn of events. Sure, he suspected something when South Korea started tailing them, and even more when he didn't bother to hide when Russia confronted him, but this was unexpected.

Blackmail or no, Hungary's videos would hardly do anything against him, so really it would only work in his favor. The eleven other Nations constantly made fools of themselves the entire trip, but he'd done nothing of the sort. Though… he supposed letting his boss see him cooperating with Alfred _willingly_ could be an issue.

Russia shuddered, remembering Natalia was also trailing him the entire time. Nope! Hungary had to go. He blinked, reminding himself that it was Hungary's _videos_ , not the woman herself that needed taking care of. Then he shrugged, not seeing a difference between the two, and continued listening to Prussia's rant.

"Alright!" America slammed his fist into his palm, "We leave immediately! Make sure you have everything because if you leave it you'll never see it again." Prussia scowled as the blonde repeated exactly what he'd just said not seconds before.

Canada checked his pockets and noticed something was missing, "Hold on, Al. I think I left the keys upstairs. Be right back." America continued right on talking over him. Canada sighed, _back to normal, eh?_

Canada leaned back against the wall of the elevator, deep in thought. How much of their trip was rigged to fit this 'reality TV show' idea? Already it was a set-up, it was a race after all, but how much of their trials and tribulations were caused by a casual flip of a switch by Hungary? Or a slight-of-hand by South Korea? Was it all the way back in the beginning at the mall? When they checked _every single store_ before finally finding the key? Or was their luck this whole time just that bad? These videos really wouldn't affect _him_ specifically anyway. The bitter irony of it all when invisibility was actually a _beneficial_ trait.

He shook his head, now really wasn't the time, and unlocked the door to their hotel room. Housekeeping had yet to come by since it was so late, and sheets were still all strewn about exactly as they had left them. On the floor at the foot of the bed were the car keys. Canada sighed, wondering how he'd missed them, and knelt to pick them up.

"What the-?" Hidden under the edge of the bed was something Canada didn't think he'd ever see again—a clue box. He scowled, dropping the box onto the bed along with the keys. "I wonder if this is how Pandora felt, seeing that stupid jar everywhere she went."

Of course it was locked, because that would be too easy. The small brass keyhole just sat there innocently and he huffed. "Hungary if you somehow got this on camera, know that I'm not sharing my maple syrup with you at the world meetings for the next decade."

Well what was the point of a lock without a key? He supposed he could drop it from the window and let it smash to pieces twenty stories below but… that was probably frowned upon. Violet eyes flickered over to the car keys. _Unless…_

Sure enough. Between assorted other keys he had no wish to know about was a tiny, brass, oxidized key. "…maybe only five years."

* * *

They had really outdone themselves this time. Inside the box was a rolled up parchment probably from Hungary's personal stationary written in the delicate script they'd all seen on other clues but now realized it was the female Nation's calligraphy.

"What does it say?" Spain and the rest of the unfortunate travelers crowded around America who gingerly unrolled the little scroll.

"I looked and looked but I didn't see God." He paused, eyes scanning the short, simple sentence once more. Shrugging, he tossed the paper back at Canada, hitting him in the face, "Yeah that's it."

There was a pregnant silence between the twelve of them, no one spouting the epiphany of an answer.

Until, "Cosmonauts."

Eleven pairs of eyes swiveled around to blink owlishly at the tall Russian who had spoken. "What did you say?"

Russia frowned at England, "You do not know cosmonauts?" The man was surprisingly upbeat after the night before—no one had the pleasure of telling him what happened other than, ' _oh we had a few drinks. You crashed early'._ There were enough volatile Nations to deal with without England's input.

He looked rather affronted, "Of course I know what cosmonauts are! I want to know why you think they're relevant."

Russia tilted his head, "Then why did you not ask, 'why are they relevant'?"

England fumed.

"Okay!" America intervened. "So Commies, what about 'em?"

The ashen blond scowled, "Supposedly the quote was said by cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin regarding his orbit of the Earth in 1961." The scowl disappeared and was replace with a cheery smile, "You might have heard of him _Fredka,_ he beat your astronauts by an entire month as the first man into space. But he was Orthodox, so no one knows if he actually said it."

"And whose flags are on the moon, _Ruskie_?"

Russia shrugged innocently, "Considering they're all bleached white by now, I'm going to say Feliciano's."

"Hey!"

* * *

 _"So… space. Or cosmonauts. Where does that take us?"_ They had split up once again between the four cars and started up a conference call. America and Russia were as far apart as physically possible.

"Well LA is kinda huge with pretty much everything inside it somewhere but I got a pretty solid idea."

China hummed noncommittally over the speaker, _"Where is that then?"_

"The Griffith Observatory. It's actually on the outskirts of the city, in the foothills, but it'll still take us a bit to get there. Maybe four-five hours. I don't think it opens early though, so we'll have to sit around for a while." They _did_ pack up and leave in the middle of the night, as soon as they got Prussia free.

 _"And if you're wrong?"_

"Well we're still in LA. If I'm wrong it's not that hard to do some course-correcting."

 _"Aya… I just want to go home."_

* * *

Perhaps he wasn't the only one, but Japan was feeling wistful most of the four hour drive to the City of Angels. This was their last ride together. Naturally there were still the petty arguments—he had the unfortunate fate of sharing a vehicle with Spain and Romano—but these were different than the multitude of spats in the dreary meeting room.

These were more lighthearted, with no real bite behind Romano's threats. It was… nice. He still wanted his headphones though.

In no time at all, they were making the climb up to an observatory overlooking the city. It made no sense to him, there was a reason they were usually built in the middle of nowhere. No smog, no light pollution, no anything. Los Angeles was particularly notorious for its smog, and America had told him one time about the blackout they'd had. It was city-wide, and probably further. No lights or power for anyone. People who had lived there their whole lives had looked up at the sky and thought the bright band of the Milky Way was some alien invasion or something. It was so sad it was hilarious.

Polluted or no, the observatory still stood proudly on the hillside and it had its fair share of tourists milling about in the summer heat.

America slammed the last car door shut with a smile, "Let's get this over with."

Japan couldn't agree more.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the oversimplified clue led to an oversimplified search—Hungary was standing in the middle of the building by some huge pendulum thing. England _really_ didn't care what it was or did, holding up a sign like a limousine driver proclaiming _NATIONS_ in Hungarian sprawled across it. Really, it was almost insulting how easy this was.

"Don't you think this is a bit anticlimactic, Elisaveta?" England drawled, she'd even dressed the part in a slate-grey pantsuit with her hair pulled back into a slick ponytail. "After all the drama you put us through to get here?"

Hungary just smiled his way, lowering her arms. "What makes you think this is it?" She asked it so flippantly, so _coyly_ that it made him wish there weren't innocent tourists around to witness a rather spiteful tongue-lashing he would gladly send her way.

"We are in the city though," Japan pointed out evenly, "what else is there to have us do?"

Her smile turned into a shit eating grin, "I'm glad you asked, Kiku." She let the sign fall to her side, gesturing pointedly at America. "This location just happens to be at about the center of the city. Go north or south and it's the same distance, give or take a few miles."

"Yeah, yeah," America butted in, "I know my geography, what's it matter?"

Hungary checked her wristwatch, pursing her lips while doing so. "Four o' clock. That's how long I'll give you guys."

France's eyes narrowed, "To do what, exactly?"

"That's only four hours away," Romano muttered in the background.

"To play the final round of the game of course!" Hungary looked mildly offended that they would even ask such a thing. "Natalia and Yong Soo each have half the coordinates to the end of the course and you need both to find it. You may split up to search, LA _is_ a large city, but everyone must be at the final location before four o' clock tonight to beat the game. If you win, I keep my footage for myself. If you lose, the rest of us across the globe, including your bosses, get _everything_." Her expression was downright _vicious_ by the end of her explanation.

Though they'd already assumed what the stakes were back in Vegas, actually hearing them from the gamemaker herself made them all the more real. Several Nations shared wary glances with each other, having come so far with forced cooperation only to have to suffer through it one more time.

"Since I don't want to send _all_ those emails," her voice was positively patronizing, "I'll give you a hint." She was drawing out the dramatic pause to waste time at this point.

"Well spit it out already!" Romano snapped, sending a glare her way.

Hungary rolled her eyes, "Yong Soo _is_ a bit of a narcissist isn't he? He just loves to lay claim to everything he can get his hands on, even all the way out here."

"Elisaveta it isn't fair if you purposefully hold us back," Germany noted pointedly.

"Koreatown!" America shouted, much like one would say _Eureka!_

China pulled a face, "I'm the only Asian Nation allowed to name cities after myself."

"Ve~ Italiatown would be kinda funny…"

"No—that's where he has to be, in Koreatown. It's just a few minutes south of here."

"What are we waiting for then?" Prussia strode out of the building, a man on a mission, and the others followed suit. Hungary waved at them slyly, watching her little game pieces fall right into place.

* * *

It always seemed that one met the most resistance when on a time constraint. Trying to finish a paper due the next day? The printer runs out of ink, then the store that sells ink is closed because it's the middle of the night, then the email you sent to yourself to print later ended up having a typo in the address without realizing it. Little road bumps the Universe just loved throwing at procrastinators.

Los Angeles traffic was no different. At all.

"If we lose this thing before making it five miles down the road I actually think I'm going to cry," Prussia muttered, chin resting behind the window of the car as the same damn cyclist passed them once again. Though the man on the bike was completely oblivious, Prussia took it personally that a man on a bike with a basket on the back was beating a four-wheel-drive Jeep, and thus it was a competition with pride on the line.

"I can let you out to walk the rest of the way," Russia said serenely from the driver's seat. How he ended up driving, he wouldn't know. They'd decided to try and stay together as one group and branch off if they figured out where Belarus was before finding South Korea, but that was proving difficult with all the people cutting in and out of the lanes of traffic and the various detours for construction and accidents.

Eventually though, they entered the districted dubbed "Koreatown."

" _Alright,_ " America said over the phone. " _This place isn't very big so split up to cover more ground. Search and seizure by any means necessary!"_ The phone clicked off and their four-car brigade each went in their own directions.

Prussia, Russia, North Italy, and China each stared out their respective windows, eyes glued to the pedestrians and store fronts. Russia took them up and down side streets, the main road down the district, and back around again, with no luck.

"We're going to have to get out and walk, it's already one-thirty," China said, ever the voice of reason, and Russia silently parked the car in front of one of many Korean barbeque restaurants. By the time they actually got to Koreatown after the mess on the streets, they'd already wasted almost a good forty-five minutes, so they were already on a time crunch.

"Ja, you can be bait. _Kesesese._ "

Russia watched as the two devolved into yet another petty argument, Italy frantically waving a white flag around them. "I would like to be beating Elisaveta today. If you prevent me from doing that I will reintroduce you to Mr. Pipe, _da_?"

They separated like repelling magnets, Prussia smirking in victory. "I still-"

"Hey! Get him!" The four Nations spun around to just barely catch a petite blond barrel through them and sprint down a side street, three of their fellow reluctant contestants trailing far behind.

"God damn it," England doubled over once they finally stopped. "We nearly had him." Spain and Japan were in the same condition, both breathing hard.

Italy blinked, "That was Yong Soo?"

"Who else, _amigo?_ "

Prussia glanced down where the Asian Nation disappeared and smirked, laying a casual hand on Italy's shoulder. "Say, Feli," he said, and the Italian squinted up at him. "You know, if we lose this thing, your boss might take away your pasta for a long time and make you do lots of paperwork."

Italy gasped and brought his hands up to his mouth. "He wouldn't! Not my pasta."

The albino _tsked_ , "He would. But if you can catch Yong Soo, then you might get to keep your pasta."

Italy looked between Prussia and the side street, thin brows furrowing in determination. One second he was there, the next he wasn't, gone in a basil-scented flash.

Prussia cheered, "Run Feli run!"

No one messed with North Italy's pasta.

Italy sprinted down the street trailing after South Korea, quickly gaining his notorious retreating speed. "Yong Soo!"

The currently-blond Asian glanced back in surprise and poured on the speed, frantic instead of victorious. Italy would not be deterred. Not with his pasta hanging in the balance. Zigzagging down the road now, South Korea only had a few precious feet ahead of the crazed Italian.

"For pastaaaaaa!" Italy launched himself forward and tackled the Asian to the ground on the sidewalk, an iron grip around the other's waist.

"Ack! Let me go!" South Korea tried and failed to wriggle out of it, but Italy held on tight. Rolling around on the sidewalk in Los Angeles was starting to draw quite a crowd of spectators.

"Where's the coordinates? And where's Miss Natalia?" The other six soon caught up with them, parting the crowd in shocked wonder.

"I'll never tell!" China plodded over to them, peering down at the pinned Korean. "Aniki, help me!"

"Tell me the coordinates and where to find Natalia and then I'll help you. If you don't…" China waggled a finger, "Next New Year will-"

"34.0091!" he cried. "That's all she told me! I don't know where Natalia is, she's in the city though! She has the other half, I only know 34, I swear!"

China smiled, " _Xièxiè._ You can let him go now, Feliciano." Italy bounced to his feet, a wide grin on his face.

The elder Asian sent out a mass text with the number, "You're staying with us Yong Soo."

South Korea pouted but didn't disobey. The eight nations moved off the center of the sidewalk and away from the already-dispersing crowd.

England huffed, checking his watch. "So how do we find Natalia?"

"Ah…" Spain slowly raised his hand, eyeing Russia warily. "I may have an idea."

Russia caught the look and smiled dangerously, "And what would that be, comrade?"

"W-well… you could…call her?" Spain looked like he expected to be hit which, when dealing with Russia, was always a possibility.

Russia cocked his head innocently. " _Da_ , I guess I could."

* * *

" _Sestra_ , if you would please answer my calls that would be nice of you." It was a nice idea, Spain's proposition, but it didn't account for the fact that Belarus simply wouldn't answer.

"It's two o'clock, we're going to need a better plan than just waiting for her to pick up the phone," England muttered, and no one could argue with that. They were running out of time. All twelve nations plus Korea stood around a vacant lot, listening to Russia leave message after message for the violent European Nation.

Russia stared mournfully down at his phone, then suddenly perked up. "Ah! I have idea." He put the phone back up to his ear with a giddy grin on his face. " _Privyet_ Estonia! How are you? I don't care actually, it's a greeting."

The other nations sent a prayer for the Baltic Nation and a thank you for not being in his position. "I need favor. Track Natalia's cell phone for me and I will not hurt you, _da?_ And do it quickly." A long silence followed in which Russia tapped his faucet pipe against his thigh to his national anthem while humming it in falsetto. Then, " _Spasibo_ , Estonia. You may go back to bed now."

Russia turned to the waiting Nations, "My sister is at Hollywood Walk of Fame."

* * *

By the time they got to the renowned tourist trap, it was three o'clock.

"We're not going to make it," Romano muttered, ever the optimist.

"We totally are dude!" America sounded more excited than he had been all day. "All we gotta do is find Natalia, get the coordinates from her, and make it to wherever they lead then we're home free."

"In under an hour."

"Uh-huh."

"…Whatever you say."

In her classical, navy blue doll-like dress and white bow, Natalia didn't exactly blend in with the humans. Several stopped and pointed like she was cosplaying as some old 40's actress or character, others saw her glare and gave a wide berth. She waltzed the Walk of Fame almost wistfully, taking care to not step on each star. The Nations, after fifteen minutes of searching, paid no mind to any of that and walked right up to her, bulldozing over the stars themselves.

"Natalia!" She stopped in her tracks and looked up at them, namely at Russia.

" _Sestra,_ would you kindly give me the second half of the coordinates?"

Belarus shook her head and backed up. "But if you lose we can be together. That's what Elisaveta said."

For all Russia's insanities, he took the situation with great care. "How do you know we won't if I win?"

Natalia cocked her head, "All I have to do is stall you. Then you're mine forever, _brat._ "

"The rest of us aren't!" Prussia crossed his arms, "And I for one will be incredibly pissed if I lose this thing because of you." France and China wisely pulled him back and none-too-gently told him to be quiet.

" _Sestra_ , Moscow is a long way from here." Russia said, genuinely kind. "If you give me the coordinate you can sit next to me on the flight all the way home. Then we can start from there, _da?_ "

Belarus seemed to consider his offer, twisting a length of hair between her fingers. "Promise?"

" _Da,_ _obeshchayu_." She gave one last warning look then resigned.

"118.4970."

Prussia, Romano, France, and England started running back to the cars before she finished the last syllable. " _Spasibo, sestra._ " Russia said, turning to follow the others. Belarus was content to continue the walk.

"Come on let's go, go, go!" America dove into the driver's seat, peeling out of the parking space with Japan and Germany along with him, the latter inputting the coordinates into his phone.

3:20 p.m.

"Santa Monica pier," Germany informed, holding on for dear life as America broke several of his own traffic laws.

"Gonna cut it close! Tell the others, we can't wait for them."

"It's almost 50 minutes from here," Japan said from the back seat, nails cutting crescents into the upholstery as his phone with the map up flew across the car's interior. "We won't make it."

"We're gonna make it!" Japan would have rather lost than die horribly in a car crash but he got the feeling his sentiments weren't shared by the blond.

* * *

"We're going to die!" China was screeching up a storm at Romano's driving. They may or may not have gone up on two wheels at some point during a turn.

" _Cazzo_! Shut up or you'll be the reason we crash!"

3:34 p.m.

* * *

"This is why Russia requires dashboard cameras."

"Go faster!"

"I will not be caught breaking American traffic laws for some stupid competition, Arthur. He will never let me live it down."

"Damn it all!"

3:46 p.m.

* * *

America, Germany, and Japan were the first group to arrive, only because their driver knew the city so well. The youngest of the three bounced nervously on the sidewalk, eyes peeled for the other three cars. "Where are they?"

* * *

"I said slow down or you'll kill us all!"

"I'll slow down once we win this damn competition!"

3:52 p.m.

* * *

Romano, China, South Korea, and Prussia were next to arrive, spilling out of the car and nearly tripping over each other to make it to the pier.

Screeching tires alerted them to the third car, housing, England, Spain, and Russia, the Slavic nation walking calmly away from the worn-out vehicle. "See?" He poked the Brit in the cheek, "We are not last."

3:57 p.m.

"You guys find Elisaveta, we'll wait for Mattie and Feli." America and Germany stayed behind, both blondes with varying degrees of nervousness. "In hindsight, we could have just taken three cars."

"…Ja. That would have been a better plan."

The fourth and final car finally pulled up and Canada was out the door before it came to a full stop, "We're here, we're here!"

The twins raced each other to catch up with the rest, pushing through the crowds without a care in the world.

Italy didn't even turn off the engine, sliding over the hood of the car to meet up with the blond. Germany grabbed his hand and the two started running, until Italy fell face-first onto the deck.

"Ve~ _Doitsu!_ My shoelace!"

Germany halted in his tracks and mentally cursed at the sky for their luck, dropping to re-tie the redhead's shoelace. "Ready now?"

" _Sí, grazie!_ "

* * *

Hungary bounced her foot as she waited for the arrival of each and every Nation, counting them one by one as they made their way over to her.

 _….And there's Canada and America, just two more._ She looked down at her watch, half wanting them to win, half wanting them to lose. When she didn't call for the end of the game, the other Nations searched wildly for who they were missing. Hungary laughed, thinking them akin to chickens with their heads cut off.

"Where the hell are Germany and Italy?!"

"Oi! Potato Bastard!"

She checked her watch once more and _tsked_. "And…" A pale blond head and auburn hair curl poked out from the crowd, several yards away. _Oh. Shoelace. Pity._ Just as Italy stood back up, the minute hand on her watch completed its final rotation. "Time!"

"Ve~ we're here!" Germany and Italy collided with the rest of the group at 4:01 p.m.

Thirteen heads swiveled to either stare or glare at the female Nation, who would not be swayed. "I called time before you got here, boys."

"One set of coordinates is over a hundred meters," Prussia stalked up to her, face a comical shade of pink. "West made it."

Hungary cocked her head and smirked, resting her chin in her palm. "34.0091 North by 118.4970 West. Close. But not close enough."

Romano looked livid, cursing in rapid-fire Italian.

"Seriously, dude? You're gonna be like that?"

She smiled, "Tell me how the original show works would you Alfred?"

America huffed, having no real rebuttal for that. "We lost guys. It's over."

Amongst the tourists and locals, the thirteen Nations tried to grasp just what that meant. "We… lost?" Spain shook his head, dumbfounded.

"But… what?" Italy looked borderline heartbroken. He glanced down at his shoelace with a frown.

Prussia sighed, crossing his arms. "Well, guess we'd better enjoy our last few hours of pride left."

America nodded solemnly. "Yep."

England held his hand out for China's phone, "I'm going to book my flight now, if you don't mind."

South Korea frowned, "Damn, I was kind of rooting for you guys too."

Hungary shrugged, preparing for the many long hours of video editing to come.

* * *

 **A/N: One chapter to go! I wasn't going to just end it like that. There's an epilogue of sorts. Definitely not brimming with humor, as a forewarning. So good chapter? Bad chapter? Just happy you got a chapter? Let me know! Most of the last chapter is already written so, no promises, but it's almost done.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Epilogue: Home**

 **A/N: And here we go. Surprise! I got it up less than 24 hours later.** ** _Danke_** **so much for following, favoriting, and commenting throughout this long road of a story. Comedy is not my shtick, but I think I made it work.**

* * *

America's president was not expecting a nondescript, paper DVD envelope wrapped in a bow on his desk that Thursday morning. A paper tag was attached to the bow, ' _For you- Elisaveta Héderváry'_ , written on it in elegant script. Out of sheer curiosity and a desire to not fill out more paperwork just yet (bills could always wait a few more days), he slid the disk into his computer and hit play.

 _Oh. Right._ _The race._ He'd almost forgotten about it, the absence of Alfred a peaceful gift he hadn't questioned. The video opened with a camera shot through an air vent grate, overlooking the cramped meeting of the twelve Nations in America's townhouse.

 _"Look, I know we're tired and I know this sucks but come on, guys!"_ The blond was saying. _"We've been through worse! I mean, this isn't war, there's no paperwork, and no bosses within a ten mile/kilometer/whatever radius. Yeah we're stranded in South St. Louis with almost no money or phones, and a crazy blackmailer with a stupid name-"_

 _"Fantastic pep talk, America."_

The president dropped his head into his hands with a long-suffering sigh. "Oh Alfred…" The eternal embarrassement. What was the point of sending him the video if it would just make _him_ look bad? America always acted like that, that was nothing new.

 _"-But thirty years ago cell phones didn't even exist and ninety years ago no one on the planet had a lot of money anyway. We're stuck with each other next month anyway, and we can hate ourselves and point fingers then. But, for now, can't we just get along and enjoy what little vacation we have? The Midwest may be cornfields but you haven't seen everything yet! When do I ever disappoint?"_

The president clearly thought along the same lines as several other nations, ready with several examples from America's history. He forced himself to continue watching anyway, peering at the screen through his fingers. _"Don't answer that, I was being rhetorical. I'm the country people go to, to live their dreams, if I was boring we definitely wouldn't be here right now. Just give me a few hours and I can get us moving again. Even though we lost, wouldn't it feel really damn good if we proved our bosses wrong and actually got along for the last few days? There's seven days left to get to LA and we're almost halfway across the continent. So what if we don't find the RV? So what if Bob screws us over? It won't last forever, and at least we'll be suffering together. So, what da'ya say?"_

"He does have a way with words," the man mused. The video cut to a different scene, America narrating some sort of card game he didn't know.

 _"Detective Braginsky appeared to be the sole victim of an angry mob, having been framed for the deaths of the Vargas twins. Though he died innocent of that claim the investigation uncovered a dark past for the late detective."_

The president groaned, "I'm going to be getting a very angry phone call very soon, aren't I? From a lot of politicians."

The video continued skipping through various Alfred-isms, each one insulting, idiotic, or cheesy in some way until he had to shut his computer down. Paperwork would have been better than that. He moved to slide the DVD back into its sleeve when another note inside made him pause.

' _Watch the whole thing. Trust me, it gets better.'_

He shook his head. Maybe someday, but not today.

* * *

Russia and Belarus' seats were right next to each other on their very long plane ride back to Moscow. The armrest between them was up and Belarus was using her brother's shoulder as a pillow, completely relaxed and breathing softly in her sleep. Of course he found her involvement to be highly terrifying- his crazy sister had been following them since the beginning- but the 'big brother' part of his mind told him it was because she cared.

Belarus had gone after him because she was psychotic and wanted him all to herself. No… Belarus had gone after him because she loved her big brother and wanted to make sure he was okay in the company of the others.

He was going home to the cold, snow, and rain. Home to his boss and politics and mind-numbing economics… Was he the only one that thought the trio's actions were actually quite noble? Hungary had done what Russia could not- make the Nations happy and enjoy themselves and act like humans. Even if the westerners were annoying idiots that would all become one with Mother Russia in the end… their adventure across America had been the most fun he'd had in decades and he didn't want to go home just yet.

Belarus shifted on his shoulder and muttered something under her breath, weaving an arm between them and lacing their fingers together, remaining asleep the entire time. If only she could behave like that all the time… they might actually be civil toward one another. All of them.

Russia smiled and rested his head on hers, longing for the heat of the Nevada desert in his dreams.

* * *

"My god…"

 _"We kissed, I fell under your spell. A love no one could deny. Don't you ever say I just walked away, I will always want you. I can't live a lie, running for my live, I will always want you."_

England's prime minister wanted to die. He knew his Country was a terrible drunk but _this?_ He knew he'd be the laughing stock of the next decade of summits.

 _"I came in like a wrecking ball! I never hit so hard in love. All I wanted was to break you walls. All you ever did was wreck me. Yeah, you, you wreck me…"_

"You wreck _me_ , Arthur. I hope you're suffering from torment as much as I will for this."

The camera panned to France, Russia, and America watching from across the bar and the prime minister prepared for endless humiliation for years to come. Letting Hungary talk him into this was a Bad Idea. Bad. Idea.

And why did it have to by _Miley_ _Cyrus_ of all artists?

* * *

South Korea, China, and Japan had managed to snag seats together for their flight, for better or for worse. China had mandated his brothers come back to Beijing with him to ride out the wave of humility as a united front, and South Korea wasn't complaining.

The happy-go-lucky Nation was on his phone trying to show Japan a new game that was, 'invented by me, da-ze!' For his part, Japan was at least trying to look interested.

China smiled, adjusting his pillow for the long flight home, secretly glad to have even a small part of his family with him. One day, they'd all be together again for something like the race, just maybe not as extreme. He'd never ever admit it, but there were small moments he had enjoyed himself.

Small moments, but moments nonetheless.

* * *

Germany's chancellor watched the video with rapt attention, arms folded on the desk. She knew there would be many horrific scenes on Hungary's video, but she was more concerned for Prussia than for Germany himself.

 _"This was all a setup, wasn't it? You planned this whole thing out just for shits and giggles didn't you?"_

Of all the Nations to figure it out, she honestly hadn't imagined Prussia to be first. Not that she'd ever say that out loud.

 _"Tonight, we are young. So let's set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun…"_ She winced, he truly did have a dreadful singing voice. _"…But our friends are back, so let's raise a toast. 'Cause I found someone to carry me home."_

The video through the rear view mirror showed the three members of the 'Bad Touch Trio' as they called themselves, singing their hearts out. As idiotic as they looked, she couldn't be mad or upset with them for anything. They were having fun.

 _"So if by the time the bar closes, and you feel like falling down, I'll carry you home tonight."_

Then the video cut to Germany and she started to worry. He was a stick in the mud, she'd be the first to admit that. She wanted him to just… let loose sometimes. Live a little. The camera zoomed in on him and America in the RV, just the two of them.

 _"What would you do if I started singing?"_ The younger blond was in the middle of pestering her Country and she had to roll her eyes. Always America. But then Germany gave no response, and he held true to his threat.

" _Hast Du etwas Zeit für mich, Dann singe ich ein Lied für Dich, Von 99 Lufballons, Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont._ " The Chancellor's face went slack. Why _that_ song? Germany voiced the same question.

 _"'Cause I'm stuck in this bus for the next seven days with you guys, I don't wanna be fighting the whole time."_

Her smile returned once more at the oblivious Nation's continuing explanation. They were being civil, that's all she could ask for.

 _"Yeah, I mean, look at us. We're on a race against time from one ocean to the other in a cramped recreational vehicle and we're actually getting along."_ It was a rare sight to see both of them not so much serious (because Germany was always serious) but being friendly toward one another. Like old acquaintances, which, she guessed, they were.

When the microphone picked up Germany's _"42"_ , the chancellor cheered and clapped in her seat.

"That's my stick in the mud."

* * *

Somehow, Italy and Romano's layover happened to be in the same gate as Hungary and Spain's back in JFK in New York.

They silently took up four seats on the benches by the gate, just watching the people scurry to and fro.

"Hey _fratello_?" Italy asked, watching an Asian family wrangle their kids into a smaller group so they wouldn't lose anyone.

"What is it, Feli?" Romano's voice was oddly quiet, very different from the defiant yell he usually sported.

"Can we…" Italy trailed off, waiting a whole minute before continuing. "Do you think we can get some gelato when we get home?"

Romano snorted, "Yeah, Feli. We can have some gelato."

" _Grazie…_ " Romano stared at the sign for gate numbers across the walkway, realizing the gate they'd originally arrived at was right next to them. He inwardly laughed, how… _full circle_. It was like they planned it that way.

A while later a pleasant voice over the intercom called their flight number and Romano dragged his brother to his feet, saluting to Spain and Hungary as they walked away, glad to be finally going home.

The Nations saluted back, both smiling softly, and watched the twins until they disappeared down the jetway.

"I regret nothing!" Hungary yelled, knowing they heard her even though she couldn't see them. She wasn't lying. The evidence never lies.

The cameras had collected over a weeks worth of near-continuous footage, and while not exactly the material she was originally looking for the actual result was almost just as priceless. They could deny it all they wanted but each and every one of them had their moment to be a kid again away from the world around them.

Everyone has a little childish spirit inside of them, even Nations. And now that they realized it, her work here was done.

* * *

 **Fin!**

 **I write like I'm watching a movie and I totally imagined an epic song playing in the background during this entire chapter. Maybe "Tiny Dancer".** **Did you like it?! I certainly did. If you've never reviewed before, now's your last chance! Tell me what you think in the comments,** ** _por favor_** **and thank you for sticking with this crack-tactic adventure through to the end!**

 **P.S. I told you I could finish before school started, Rio ;)**


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